


The Katasharab

by WytchDr



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Canonical Character Death, Capital Punishment, Dissociation, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Family fluff at some point (like at the end), Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Matters not made better by Lobelia being a complete bitch, Physical response to trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Slut Shaming, Unwanted/forced pregnancy, Whipping (corporal punishment), attempted suicide, fem!Bilbo, rule 63!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WytchDr/pseuds/WytchDr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin's mind is slowly taken by the goldsickness of his forefathers as he gets closer to Erebor, even before he sees the gold within, and his greed and possessiveness lead him to the inaccurate conclusion that Bilba is in love with him. A confused, ashamed, and deftly manipulated Bilba remains silent about the abuse she suffers until the others can no longer ignore the signs of something being terribly wrong with their burglar. </p><p>This story contains direct references to rape/sexual assault as well as forced pregnancy. There will be some happiness at some point but only at the very end and only tentatively. Read at your own discretion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm going to say this- I have no idea why in the hell I wrote this. I think sometimes I let my own shit get the better of me and then I vent with horribleness, but there is still no excuse for posting this for anyone else to read.
> 
> Anyway, I screwed around with Bilba's age because I can. Also, I skip vast swaths of time because I can. 
> 
> Also, this is unbeta'd. 
> 
> Finally, if you see ANY missing tags or warnings PLEASE let me know so that I can add them.

"Kili, look. I found her footprints. I bet she's this way." Fili motioned for his brother to follow him and they slipped quietly through the underbrush.

The sight that greeted them was not what they expected.

"Bilba? Are you hurt?" Kili asked kneeling down. She shook her head but refused to move out from under the low hanging rock under which she had wedged herself.

Fili and Kili exchanged looks of confusion and Fili sat next to his brother. "Bilba, it's alright. We're here. Getting lost in the wilds is nothing to be ashamed of. Kee and I got lost enough times as dwarflings that it would make your head spin. Come on," Fili coaxed, holding out his hand, "let's go back. The others are worried sick."

Finally, Bilba looked up. "Please, please go back without me. Tell them you didn't find me. Don't make me, please, please..." Her voice was barely a whisper but her tone was pure terror. Tears slipped down her face as she spoke and the weight of her words made the night seem to close in around them.

Kili flopped down from kneeling to sit beside his brother and they exchanged a very worried look.

"You didn't get lost did you?" Fili asked cautiously.

Bilba didn't respond.

"Why did you run away?" 

Slowly, Bilba looked up and opened her mouth but her answer, the one they all desperately needed, was cut off. Dwalin and Gloin crashed into the clearing behind Fili and Kili.

"They found her! We're over here!" Dwalin shouted.

Fili and Kili watched Bilba's face go from terror to complete desolation and defeat. 

"Well what are you three waiting for? It's not getting any warmer out here," Dwalin groused.

Accepting her defeat, Bilba took Fili's hand and let him gently lead her from her hiding spot. The young brothers had half a mind each to pull her aside and find out what drove her to run away into the wilds with nothing but the clothes she wore and her tiny dagger, but opportunity was never afforded them. Instead, as they walked into camp, Bilba pretended to trip and when they leaned down to catch her she whispered something for their ears only. 

"Help me."

They knew that she was not referring to having tripped but did not know what to do when Thorin approached and embraced her. She returned the embrace mechanically but they could see the tension all over her body. Failing solving the problem, they sat by the fire and rested their feet and thinking. 

After Oin pronounced Bilba to be in fine health, less a meal or so, Thorin quickly led his intended away from camp for a little private time. Thorin’s insistence and Bilba’s hesitation were not lost on the brothers but they seemed not to understand the significance.

Thorin and Bilba’s return to camp was likewise unremarkable. Both were disheveled, as was common after a brief time away in the woods, but little else was noticeable other than her silence of late.

The only change in behavior that anyone had noted when Bilba had become involved with Thorin was that she was now uncharacteristically quiet and reserved. Bofur joked to the others, and well out of earshot of Thorin, that it was because her “hobbity sensibilities were offended by the mere thought of sexual congress, much less her comrades knowing about it.” Bofur’s explanation seemed completely reasonable and it became a point of amusement to watch the burglar blush and squirm when lewd comments were sent her way. No one meant any harm by it, as everyone caught their fair share of ribbing in a company so small and tight knit, but nonetheless it seemed to contribute to her continued silence.

\----

The days that followed were no less strange as the young brothers continued to watch Bilba. There were no more attempts at communication between them and she refused to meet their eyes as though the words that had passed between them in wood had never happened.

With Smaug dead and the men of Laketown on their doorstep demanding recompense, Thorin had grown ever more possessive of their hobbit. She became withdrawn, no longer simply silent, and she grew wan, and, though they all lacked for food, the changes of her person were the most striking and worrisome. The company was beginning to take notice of her condition but it was Nori, always the most observant, who discovered why.

"Bilba, may I have a word?" Oin asked gently. He kept his voice as quiet and gentle as possible but she flinched away from him nonetheless.

She looked to Thorin who was temporarily engrossed in a discussion with Balin and Dwalin before assenting.

"We can't go far and we need to be quick. What do you need?"

"Lass, we know you're not eating. Tell us why. You're going to starve yourself to death at this rate."

She nearly voiced the truth- that it was her intention- but thought better of it and stared mutely at the elderly dwarf.

Oin watched her with caution and was about to ask another question when Thorin shouted for her. She flinched but answered back mechanically that she was gone to relieve herself, but the look of terror in her eyes could not be concealed as she obediently returned to Thorin's side.

Later that night, after their meager dinner of cram had been eaten, Oin pulled the princes, Nori, and Dwalin aside- all those who had voiced serious concern for her well-being.

"What'd you find out?" Nori asked.

Oin shook his head. "Not much honestly. She refused to answer my questions but I am relatively sure that she is purposefully starving herself, though what her goal is I cannot be sure."

Fili looked at Kili. They had kept their small conversation to themselves after that night in the forest but maybe it was time to share it if she were willing to go this route. The thought that they might have, in a manner, driven her to do this when they had not helped left them wracked with guilt.

"Out with it," Dwalin grumbled as he watched their silent conversation.

The brothers looked up from one another quite startled. "The night when we got lost in the forest, well, she, umm, she wasn't lost," Kili muttered.

"She ran away," Fili supplied. "She begged us to leave her behind. She didn't get a chance to say why. All she said was to ask us to help her."

"It's the _katasharab_."

Dwalin stared daggers at the thief for the mere suggestion that Thorin would be capable of such a thing, but Oin hung his head and nodded.

"It would explain it. I just don't think anyone of us wanted to consider it but... Mahal, what do we do?" Oin wondered aloud.

Dwalin grumbled but said nothing. Fili and Kili both looked ill. Thorin was practically their father, they nearly idolized the dwarf, but their minds fixed on this probability and it felt like the life had been punched out of them.

"What we do is separate them and ask her outright. She'll never come to any of us, not after all of the heckling. Besides, she's probably too scared and ashamed to mention it if she's willing to kill herself without a word."

Dwalin didn't care for the thief's attitude or plan and said as much.

"So what's your plan then? Listen at the door and see if she begs? I'd put good money on it that she long since stopped trying to reason with him," Nori countered.

Dwalin glared. "What makes you so sure that it's the _katasharab_? There are other possibilities."

Nori nodded. "There are, but none of them make sense. Dwalin, you forget the life I've led. I've seen things that would turn your stomach..."

"Bet you've done them too," he accused.

"Many things, but the _katasharab_ was never one of them. I'm telling you, this is it."

"I've talked to victims, I've heard their stories, I know what it looks like too..."

Nori shook his head, deciding it was his turn to cut off the guard. "No, what you saw were the dams that got away, who had the wits left to fight and go to the guard. You never saw the ones that were kept, the ones that were made unwilling wives and servants, the ones who never spoke up for fear or shame. With enough intimidation and manipulation they forget how to fight, how to say no- you never saw them because they never get saved. Bilba is there. This attempt to starve herself is her last ditch effort. Don't put him on a pedestal, Dwalin, because you can't have it both ways. Either she dies for your loyalty, or he pays for his crimes so that she gets a second chance. Who are you going to choose- the victim or the criminal?"

Dwalin sat in silence for a moment and it was Oin who answered.

"He's right, Dwalin. You know I'm loyal to the end, but this isn't something I can abide. We have to help her, laddie, and if it proves to be something else entirely then at least we'll know what the problem is."

It took a moment but Dwalin nodded his agreement. When he looked up he remembered the presence of the young princes.

"Lads, you need to make sure that what was said here never leaves here, especially if we're wrong. You don't need to do anything right now but let us take care of it. We'll let you know what we find out."

The boys nodded but looked utterly shaken. Many things had been explained to them as they grew older, but the _katasharab_ had not been one of them. They only knew the very basics of the offence from eavesdropping on interrogations or discussions amongst the guards. They knew that the crime was horrifying but they also knew that the punishment was severe. When they left to bed down for the night it was with heavy hearts, comforting themselves that Dwalin would be impartial and just with whatever he uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katasharab: (Neo-Khuzdul) to humilate, to degrade
> 
> I got tired of trying to find a better word for "rape" in Neo-Khuzdul and went with this. Also, I used the infinitive form of the verb rather than the noun because fuck conjugating. I can do it two languages and that is enough for me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More sexual assault triggers. Also, mild violence by the "authorities" towards a prisoner. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks. Feel free to comment and I appreciate concrit! 
> 
> (Still unbeta'd.)

Bilba had excused herself to find the water closet when Dwalin took the chance to follow her. Thorin was so focused on his intended and his search for the Arkenstone that he seemed to spare little attention for anything or anyone else unless it was news of Dain's army. He waited until she reappeared from answering nature's call before confronting her.

She flinched at Dwalin's tall form standing directly in front of the door when she opened it and cowered in immediate submission. Dwalin's heart sank into his boots and knew without asking that Nori had been right.

"Lass, I need to task you a question. Regardless of your answer I promise you now that no harm will come to you."

Bilba looked up without moving her head and realized that Dwalin was waiting on her to acknowledge him. She dropped her eyes again and nodded.

"Bilba, we know you go to bed with Thorin, but we're concerned that it isn't what you want."

The hobbit flinched but didn't speak and Dwalin sighed.

"Bilba, you can just nod yes or no but you need to tell me- does Thorin rape you?"

She stumbled back as though struck and began shaking violently, tears streaming down her face and nodding her head violently.

"Make him stop Dwalin, please. I can't... not anymore... I just... it hurts so much... make him stop..."

Her pleas devolved into wracking sobs and Dwalin gently pulled her into his arms. "Shh, Bilba, it'll be alright. I swear to you now that I will never let him near you again, I will protect you for as long as you need. It's over, lass. It's over."

Bilba clutched as Dwalin's leather jerkin and they sank to the floor. He had no idea how long they were there but neither of them paid it any mind. Bilba was simply glad to feel safe for the first time since the the hell that was Laketown and Dwalin was willing to offer her any comfort he could. Their preoccupation with the present moment was nearly their downfall.

Thorin had kept track of her time gone from the hoard and his overly possessive mind had long ago suspected an affair, though without reason. Digging through her bedroll in search of some proof yielded the one thing he did not expect to find and his mood was not at all positive when he began his search for the burglar. The company had been alerted to her betrayal and was searching the mountain in small groups.

Dwalin heard the footsteps of the approaching dwarves too late to play off the situation in any light other than what it was- Bilba crying in Dwalin's lap. Luck was certainly not with them when Dwalin realized that one of the dwarrow stomping angrily down the hall was Thorin.

"Traitors!" Thorin thundered as he drew his sword. "Dwalin, I have trusted you since I was old enough to walk and yet here you are trying to woo away my intended. And you," Thorin spat as he rounded on Bilba, "you trollop, you devious, coniving whore! You insinuated yourself into my bed only to steal the one thing from me that you knew I wanted from this mountain!"

While Thorin railed against Bilba, Dwalin took the chance to sign to Fili and Kili the confirmation they needed from the previous night's conversation. Their faces darkened but they immediately moved to subdue Thorin.

Kili wrested the sword from his hand and Fili barreled into his uncle, sending him crashing to the floor. Dwalin indelicately dumped the hobbit to the floor as he moved to assist Fili and Kili in immobilizing their king.

"Go!" Dwalin roared at the still shaking burglar. "Get the others. Send them here. Hurry!!"

Bilba stumbled as she gained her feet but ran faster than they thought possible. It seemed hours that they held and fought against the wrestling Thorin while they waited for reinforcements. The first group to arrive was Oin, Gloin, and Balin. It was blessing.

"It is as we thought," Dwalin stated darkly and Oin nodded.

"Dwalin?" Balin asked.

"Thorin has committed the katasharab against Bilba," Oin explained. Balin sighed and looked down and Gloin simply deflated.

"Are you sure brother?" Balin inquired.

Dwalin nodded. "As sure as I can be without seeing it for myself."

With the additions of Oin, Gloin, and Balin, Thorin was easily contained, though it did little to quiet him. It was decided to take him to one of the temporary holding cells in the old guard offices for everyone's safety. Dwalin left the group to locate Bilba, he was concerned that the business with the Arkenstone could lead to an unpleasant outcome for their burglar if everyone got too heated without yet knowing the true circumstances, though he had to admit to himself that he wasn't sure what those were.

It took little time to locate Dori, Nori and Ori and there were no explanations to be made as Nori had already taken the liberty of explaining the situation to his brothers. The high pitched screaming of a female alerted them to Bilba's location and they found her cornered and holding a small knife while Bofur tried to coax her out.

"Lass, we just want to get this straightened out. There's no need to fight right now." 

"No, stay away! Don't touch me!" she shrieked.

Bofur looked at the four latest additions to the group with frustration. "She's not going without a fight. Should we just rush her?"

Dwalin and Nori both shook their heads in unison. "Let me try," Dwalin suggested and Nori herded the rest of the group away.

"Bilba, no one is going to hurt you now. We'll sort this out in short order, we just need to talk. I promised you before I wouldn't let anything happen to you and I meant it. They've got Thorin locked up in a cell. He can't get out. You're safe. All I ask is that you let us talk to you. Please."

Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur all looked incredulously at the other trio that stood next to them. _Later_ , Nori signed, offering no explanation whatsoever.

Bilba leaned against her corner, barely keeping a grip on her knife.

"Come on now, lass. Give me the knife," Dwalin murmured. 

He walked forward and calmly pulled it from her trembling fingers and dropped it to the floor. She crumpled instantly and Dwalin caught her. "Shh, it'll be alright."

After a moment, Nori cleared his throat. "We need to join the others soon."

Carefully, Dwalin pulled away from the hobbit and she nodded weakly. They walked quietly to the old guard offices where they could still hear Thorin railing against everything and everyone from the holding cells. The company gathered together in a conference room far enough away from the racket that it wasn't a complete distraction.

"So what's this business about locking up Thorin, then?" Bofur asked when they were all seated.

Nori was the one to answer as he seemed the most composed even in light of the situation. "Bilba has been starving herself. We suspected that it was the _katasharab_ and she has confirmed our suspicions. She was attempting to escape Thorin through suicide."

Bilba shrank to an unbelievably tiny size in her chair, made significantly easier by not having eaten in a week. She didn't know the word they were using but she didn't need to. It was painfully clear and now everyone knew. At least before they thought she wanted it, she didn't have their pity or their judgment, but now they knew her shame and there was no hiding it. She felt vulnerable and exposed, as though everyone had seen for themselves what he had done.

The others around the table all wore varying looks of shock, disappointment, and disbelief though no one doubted the accusation.

"And the Arkenstone?" Gloin asked. "What of that?"

"That much we do not know," Dwalin answered. "Lass, would you be able to tell us why you took it?"

She fought to stifle her sobs but her words came out strangled and broken. "I- I th-thought that if-if the time w-was right I could u-use it to buy my freedom. Tha-that maybe he would want it more than me."

After a moment of observation Nori declared her statement to be true. Several sets of eyes landed on him with accompanying glares. "I'm a thief remember? I've done my share of cons, I know how to read people. She's not lying."

Balin nodded. "Well, we've cleared that up, then. Oin, would you mind taking care of the rest?"

"Aye. There should be a physician's office in this wing. If someone could get my regular supplies I'll go ahead and see what I can scrounge up. I'll come back here and let you know when I'm ready."

Bofur and Bombur went in search of Oin's medical kit and in the meantime Kili suggested that someone check on Thorin.

Nori shrugged. "Why? He's not going anywhere and he isn't a danger to anyone or himself right now. I say just leave him be."

"Well he does still have his knives probably. We only took his sword," Fili explained sheepishly.

Nori leaned forward and sighed loudly. "Alright, I'm going to need some help with this."

When Nori rose from the chair everyone but Dwalin and Bilba followed. Nori took one look and nodded. While Dwalin didn't much trust the thief he at least knew that Nori had an excellent understanding of prison protocol and Dwalin felt that his own presence would only serve to fan the flames in Thorin's gold addled mind. 

It was easy to locate Thorin's whereabouts, even though Nori hadn't seen the cell for himself, given the noise the dwarf generated. Sure enough there was Thorin, fully clothed and still armed in his cell.

"Dori, Bifur- help me hold him," Nori commanded as he got the keys to the cell and a pair of manacles.

"Ori, wait in the hall," Dori said as he ushered the younger towards the door.

"Dori, we'll be answering for today and what comes of it for the rest of our lives. The least you could do would be to let him see it with his own eyes so that he isn't forever held accountable for something he didn't even witness. We're far beyond protecting anyone from his crimes anymore." Nori nodded towards Thorin as he mentioned the crimes and Dori relented.

It took significant effort on the parts of both Dori and Bifur, the two strongest in the company, to hold Thorin, but the task was monumentally easier when his hands were finally locked in the manacles that now hung through the bars over his head. Dori held one leg still while Nori and Bifur fought with the boot on the other. Thorin fought violently the entire time eventually freeing his foot enough to kick Bifur in the chin. The impact left a cut along his jaw line that began dripping blood.

Nori was already fed up with Thorin's behavior. There had been times when he had killed dwarrow without a second thought for the _katasharab_ and his patience was worn quite thin, when Thorin kicked Bifur the last of Nori's feigned calm dissolved. If the kick had been a few inches higher it would have caught the axe head and probably spelled the end of the dwarf right then and there. Standing, Nori wrapped a hand around Thorin's hair and roughly yanked him back, stretching his arms hard against the manacles.

Nori moved his face alongside Thorin’s, speaking lowly in his ear. "Maybe you haven't caught on yet, but there's a reason you're here. We know you committed the _katasharab_ against Bilba and believe me, no one will be taking your side. If you can't calm down I will have you tied to the hook in the floor, knout in hand, until you learn your place."

Even in the compromising position in which Thorin found himself he scoffed at the threat. "The _katasharab_? Bilba is my intended. I would never! Did you forget her betrayal? Her theft of the Arkenstone? Of course she has lied to you. She seeks to buy her own freedom at the expense of mine. How blind can you all be?! And you, you wouldn't dare take a whip to me, thief. They would have your head; I will have it for this alone. I am King Under the Mountain!"

Nori chuckled darkly. "Maybe you haven't been watching." Thorin found his face slammed against the bars and he saw the faces of nearly everyone in the company. They stood stock still watching the scene unfold and there was nothing to be seen but disappointment and disgust. "Do you understand now? You are a criminal. You will be treated like a criminal and if anyone here knows what that's like it's me. There will be no mercy for you after your crimes, especially if you don't learn to behave. You may have been king but that was before we learned what you are."

Nori gave Thorin's head a final shove against the bars before letting go and dropping back down to help Bifur. There was no more fight, even when the manacles were removed to remove his armor, coat, and layers of underclothes, and soon Thorin found himself naked before the company while the others sorted through his clothing outside the cell. Wordlessly, Balin shoved an undershirt, trousers, socks, and small clothes through the bars before departing with the others. 

Thorin dressed himself quickly against the bone chilling cold, though the clothing he was left with was far from adequate. He sat in the cell wondering how he had been betrayed by his lover, his cousins, even his own heirs whom he had raised as sons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know that some people go into Thorin's state of mind or do his POV for perspective. I'm not going to do that but once or twice for short segments. Why? Because no means no and I can't be bothered to care why he didn't listen. So yea... I might be really angry about his behavior.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More horribleness. Sexual assault triggers and post assault treatment. Ugh.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos! I'm loving it!!
> 
> Still unbeta'd so look out for stupids (and don't be shy about telling me if you find them).

Dwalin and Bilba sat together in the conference room when all the others had left. She was no longer crying openly but the shaking hadn't stopped and she was still balled up in her chair appearing no larger than a dwarfling.

"What are you doing to do with me now?" she whispered. Her throat was tight with fear so that the words sounded like they came from someone who was being strangled.

Dwalin started at the unexpected words. "Do with you? How do you mean?"

She shrugged slightly. "I don't know. I thought whatever it is that Oin is doing had to do with me."

"Ah. Lass, when something like happens it is the guard that investigates the crime. Oin, being a physician, will ask you some questions about what happened and try to make sense of it all. Then, there'll be an exam to make sure you're not injured and see what evidence remains of his actions."

Bilba paled perceptibly at the thought, or rather both thoughts- the exam and the talk, and Dwalin regretted his choice of words. He reminded himself that this was why he rarely spoke with victims himself once he had advanced in the ranks.

"Bilba, it's up to you. If you don't think you can talk to him or handle the exam no one will force you. Mahal knows you've been forced enough lately, we wouldn't add to it."

"But- but then everyone will know," she sputtered, ignoring Dwalin's previous words.

Dwalin moved from his chair and knelt in front of her to put a comforting hand on her knee. "We won't know the details. In matters as these all we need is a physician's word, their certainty on the matter, to move forward with prosecution. He will never have need to share what you tell him with anyone."

"But you already believe me. Why can't that be enough?" she pleaded.

"Lass, if it were nearly anyone else no one would press the matter if we didn't ask, but those of us who stay here in Erebor will have to answer for this. To have a physician's word on the matter will ease the doubt. If we are to punish Thorin properly, as befits his crime, we need to know. He will lose the crown for this, to say nothing of the punishment that will follow, we are only trying to make sure that everything we do is just." Dwalin realized, quite belatedly, that his words were, in effect, forcing her towards speaking with Oin at the very least and he mentally kicked himself.

Apparently, it was all quite too much for the burglar and she somehow made herself smaller in the chair. Dwalin noticed how her breathing went shallow and fast and, turning, gathered his water skin, moving quickly while trying not to further frighten her.

"Bilba, drink. Just a little," he prompted quietly. Dwalin knew he was utterly lacking in gentleness so he decided that speaking quietly would have to do. The words sounded like a threat more than anything and Bilba complied simply because the dwarf was bigger than she, though she had to say that the cool water helped.

"It's all still your choice lass," he reminded her as he rubbed her knee, hoping to somehow take back his concerns about proof and prosecution. 

Silence stretched between them. Dwalin was about to move away and give her her space when her voice surprised him again.

"I don't want to be touched like that anymore."

"No, I would imagine not, but it won't be like Thorin. Oin will explain it all first to give you a chance to say no. You can make your decision then."

Bilba nodded, tears slipping down her face. Dwalin pulled a chair close without removing his hand from her knee and sat down. They sat like that, ignoring Bofur and Bombur's quiet return and departure, until Oin came for her. She noticed immediately when it was Oin who entered the room even though she appeared not to have heard Bofur and Bombur’s movements. Immediately, she was sobbing and shaking again and Dwalin took one of her hands in his. Her reaction was entirely unexpected. She gripped his hand back forcefully and shifted closer to him. With no small amount of awkwardness the old guard pulled Bilba into his lap again. She clung to him and sobbed until her body convulsed.

Oin was surprised that Dwalin, of all people, was the one that she decided to trust, but he was relieved that she trusted someone. He sat in a chair across the room and waited patiently, not least because he was in no real hurry to know the truth of the matter. Slowly she quieted and Dwalin quietly grated some vaguely reassuring words in Bilba's ear. When finally Oin led Bilba from the room Dwalin went to find the others.

\----

"Well, what's the verdict then?" Dori asked when Dwalin rounded the corner.

He shook his head. "She just left with Oin. It'll be a while yet."

The group shifted uncomfortably and Balin took the opportunity to change the subject. "Fili, you'll be king now, though the coronation will be a little ways off yet. What are your thoughts on the Men and Elves?"

Fili drew a deep breath. "Honestly?"

Balin nodded and smiled, "Aye, that might be best."

"Honestly, I don't agree with Thorin. Weren't we poor once- our home destroyed by the dragon, homeless and starving? I may not agree with their tactics but if we refuse them aid we're no better than the elves. There are still women and children that need this money to buy supplies to last out the winter. Who are we to deny them that? Can we say that we would not demand the same if it were our families?"

Balin nodded thoughtfully and the others considered his words. Thorin, even in his goldmadness, had made everything about the people on their doorstep seem greedy, self-serving, and dishonorable, but Fili cast it all in a different light, one that did Thorin no favors for the others' opinions of him.

"Very well, laddie. Do you want to see about negotiations then?"

Fili nodded. "They're going to ask about Thorin. I doubt that telling them the truth is a good idea, but they're not going to negotiate with someone they don't believe to have authority."

"Leave that to me lad."

\----

They stood on the battlements in the icy wind as the delegates from the men and elves approached. Fili had trained for this his entire life but he never wanted the crown. He watched with wariness and resignation as his first duty as king rode up to the old front gate.

"We have returned to negotiate our terms. Will Thorin not treat with us?" Bard called.

"No he will not. Prince Fili is regent and rules in his stead. You may treat with him or not at all," Balin called. Fili had expected something a bit more delicate but it certainly communicated the point.

"And what had become of the King Under the Mountain?"

"Prince Fili is willing to negotiate. What concerns you more- Thorin or the gold?"

Bard quickly conceded the point as he had far more important matters on his agenda and a suitable location for negotiations was arranged. Fili also thought to ask the man for a bit of fresh food for Bilba. He did not explain her current health problems, save to say that she was ailing, and Bard readily agreed, having fond memories of the hobbit from their short stay in Laketown.

\----

While Fili, Kili, and Balin negotiated with Bard, the others waited patiently in the conference room for Oin and Bilba to return. Gloin had taken the food that was brought for Bilba and brought it along so it would available as soon as possible. Everyone was anxious to see the hobbit return to her rounded shape in short order though the food stores were limited.

When the door opened and Oin stepped through without the burglar there was nearly a revolt which Dwalin quickly silenced.

"Well?"

Oin sat heavily in a chair and rubbed his palms over his face. "There can be no doubt of his guilt now."

Nori seemed unimpressed by this revelation. "This is not news. What of her? Is she injured?"

Oin nodded and sighed again. "Aye, she is and I treated her during the exam, though it did not go well. Her physical injuries are all superficial- bruises, abrasions, and the like, but what I fear for is her sanity. While I cannot say what she told me in confidence, I can say that this will not heal over in the near future, possibly ever. In light of her injuries I can only recommend the maximum punishment for his crimes."

Execution. While Thorin was king it had ever been Dwalin's responsibility for the most serious of crimes. This most certainly was a crime of that magnitude and he knew that he would stand at Fili's side as he had done for Thorin. Rarely did violence turn Dwalin's stomach after so many years but understanding that he would execute the one person in this world that he cared for as much as he did his own brother was enough to quell the hunger of the previous weeks.

"Where is she now?" Dwalin asked, turning his concern to the person who needed it most at the moment.

"She was too shaken to talk walk and opted to remain in the physician's offices."

Standing, Dwalin gathered her food and stalked down the corridor to locate Bilba. Her ragged breathing and occasional whimpers made it easy to find her in the back of the small storage closet that she had relocated to.

"I brought food," Dwalin stated flatly.

Bilba looked up without raising her head and then looked down again without speaking.

Dwalin sat on the floor several feet away and unwrapped the bundle. Inside was lembas, a small loaf of bread that appeared to be only marginally stale, a very small baked potato, a few strips of salted pork, and a little cloth with butter inside for the bread and potato. The smell of food, even cold and partially stale food, was heady and, after subsisting on far too little cram for weeks, Dwalin began to salivate immediately.

The smell of real food was not lost on Bilba who was staring intently at the rather generous bundle.

"You should eat. You've no reason to starve yourself anymore. Besides, Fili had this sent up just for you from the Men and Elves outside. It'll do you good."

"Fili?"

"He'll be King Under the Mountain now. He's negotiating with Bard as we speak and requested this especially for you."

Bilba's eyes widened. "He told them? Why does everyone have to know?"

"Calm down. All Fili said was that you were poorly and needed extra rations since the cram wasn't enough. Bard probably just thinks you have another cold like you got in the river. Now please, lass, eat some of this."

All it took to convince Bilba of the wisdom of eating was one bite of the salted pork and she was won. The first strip of meat disappeared immediately followed by a bite of lembas and a few bites of bread and butter.

"I can't believe I'm already full," she moaned.

"Aye, hobbits aren't meant to go so long on so little food. Your stomach probably shrunk. Don't worry, though. I think the standoff will be over by the end of the day and you'll soon be afforded decent enough rations," Dwalin reasoned as he wrapped the rest of the food for her to eat later. He was glad for Fili's thoughtfulness. Bilba never would have gained her condition back on cram alone and this was a nice moment in an otherwise painful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, for clarification, this situation would be slightly different than it would otherwise have been if they were in a populated area. There was no need for an extensive investigation because most of the circumstances were already known to everyone. When Dwalin interviewed victims it would be to gather information pertinent to other aspects of the investigation though the most personal details would still only be divulged to the physician. So that is what I am referencing in terms of his past work with the guard and also the reason that we don't see that kind of interview here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither holiday weekend  
> nor husband working out of town  
> nor hours spent at church  
> nor pregnancy induced insomnia (leaving me with two hours of sleep a night)  
> nor screaming toddler with separation anxiety over daddy being gone  
> none of it will keep me from mindlessly posting that which I have already written... though it may keep me from editing meaningfully. You have been warned.
> 
> Also, more sads and triggery things. Read at your own discretion and mind the tags.

"Well, it's done," Balin announced as the company met in their newly located conference room. "Bard has agreed that 1/12th of the hoard was more than he realized and could have possibly ever needed. We have instead agreed to see the people of Laketown through the winter and that we will renegotiate what other recompense they will receive in the spring. Dain's army is moving to help us sort the first load of gold to be sent away. We will meet them when they arrive to throw down the front gate. What comes after that, though, will be the trickiest.

"Dain will want to speak with Thorin and we will be forced to explain the situation. With Oin's word I doubt that he will dispute the charges against Thorin. Nonetheless we will hold a formal hearing and likely carry out the sentence within the week."

Fili tried to keep his face composed in light of the situation but Kili made no such effort. The younger buried his face in his hands and leaned heavily on the table. No one moved to offer either of them comfort- there was nothing to be said.

Dwalin carefully schooled his features and continued to hold Bilba's hand, the hand that she had held since he helped her up from the floor of the storage closet, the hand that she had refused to let go. His heart was heavy with responsibility, but for the sake of Bilba he knew better than to burden her with his pains. She didn't need the guilt of anyone else's suffering to add to her own.

"How many more people are going to ask me questions? I just... I just want to be left alone," Bilba stammered.

"No one, lass. You don't have to answer any more questions about what happened ever again if you don't want to. What he did is our responsibility now. Your responsibility is healing and taking care of yourself," Balin offered gently.

Bilba nodded but the look on her face said that she didn't truly concur.

"What is it lass? You've got something on your mind."

"What happens to him now? I mean you're not just going to let him go are you?"

The fear in her voice was almost tangible and several in the room fought the conflicting desires to both hug her and beat Thorin mercilessly.

Balin shook his head sadly. "When we promised that he would never touch you again and that you would be safe, we meant it. He will be punished in accordance with our laws."

"But what does that mean?" she pressed, still utterly unconvinced that the punishment would be more than a formality.

"It is not decided as we have yet to conduct a hearing on the matter but the punishment recommendation from Oin, based on his conclusions, was the maximum sentence available, which is execution. I reasonably expect that Oin's recommendation will be followed given the severity of his actions."

Balin, with great effort, kept his tone business like, but Bilba grew agitated nonetheless.

"But... but you need him to resettle the mountain. He's the king and if I take him away from you I'll just have more enemies. People will blame me for this. I just want to be safe. I don't want his life on my hands, I don't want this, I just want..." Bilba trailed off as her shaking made speech too difficult to continue. Dwalin rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand reassuringly.

"Lass, let me be blunt. You've too much on your mind right now to make a decision like this, that's why these laws are in place, so that victims never need to. As for the rest, you needn't worry. A king that behaves as Thorin has is not who we need- not now and not ever. This is a grave crime in our society, one of the most despised, he will have no supporters after this, no one to bother you, no one who would call you enemy, and no one will ever blame you.

"As for the rest- you are not doing anything to him. He has brought this punishment upon himself. He has long known the punishment for this crime, as all do, and this is his axe to forge. His life is not on your hands. His punishment is not yours to bear as well."

Balin’s words were reassuring to a degree and he hoped that they were not unfounded. There might very well be talk about the circumstances once Thorin’s crimes were made public and he feared that they might be accused of a coup in order to seat Fili on the throne, but Balin knew that none of that would help Bilba at the moment and such matters were his to resolve, not hers. Instead, he found himself fudging the truth and hoping, praying to Mahal, that he hadn’t just told a complete fiction.

Bilba folded down over her knees in the chair and let her face rest on Dwalin's forearm. The brown hairs tickled her face and his skin was forge hot like Thorin's had been. Dwarven body heat never ceased to amaze her but she supposed that it was what made them hardy enough to survive their wanderings in the wilds winter after winter. It was a grim thought but she allowed herself to dwell on it as it eased her own mind. Slowly, comforted by the warmth of his arm in the cold mountain, she drifted off to sleep. Her last conscious thoughts were of how similar and dissimilar Thorin and Dwalin were. Both dwarves burned hot, but where Thorin's touch was possessive, painful, and searingly hot, Dwalin's was firm, secure, and, while no less hot, at least less intense. It was some comfort, the only comfort for weeks on end, and it was enough.

\----  


Bilba awoke to panicked voices and, for the second time that day, she found herself roughly dumped from Dwalin's lap, where she had apparently slept, to the floor.

"Lass, arm yourself and stay here," Dwalin ordered without elaboration.

He moved to followed Bifur and Bofur who stood in the doorway looking grave. Bilba, especially after the recent events, required more information that was supplied.

"Alone? Why are you leaving? Why should I arm myself? What's happening? Someone tell me... please!" Her last words came out as a plea when Dwalin left the room and Bifur followed wordlessly. Bofur took pity on her state and waited a moment to explain, worried that she might follow unwisely.

"Bilba, there's an army outside- orcs, goblins, wargs, and all that nasty business. We'll be back for you when it's over. Don't forget to lock the door from the inside while we're gone. And before you ask, no we haven't let him out and we didn't arm him. Just relax, we'll be back before you know it," Bofur reassured her. He hoped that her complete lack of understanding when it came to things like war would offer her the comfort of ignorance that, like as not, none of them would be back for her, but she seemed to nod distantly so he smiled in return as he shut the door.

In reality, "back before you know it" turned into nearly ten hours. Bilba had finally fallen asleep again despite her fear, something she had grown rather adept at recently, and the knock at the door startled her.

"Lass, it's me, Bofur. It's all safe now, you can come out," he called.

She plodded silently towards the door and unbarred it. Bofur offered her a lopsided smile but it did nothing to ease her terror at his appearance.

"You're hurt," she observed.

"Aye, it was battle, these things happen, but they've already patched me up and sent me on my way. It's just a wee scratch at any rate," he joked as he pointed to the reddened strip of linen that wound around his forehead. "We were hoping you could come and help with the wounded, nimble fingers and all that, good for stitches. Besides, they've got something that resembles food down there. Wouldn't want to miss out more cram would you?" Bofur winked ridiculously as he mentioned the cram.

Bilba was so blindsided by the ridiculous attempts at humor, especially given the circumstances, that she found herself smiling and nodding. She followed quickly to the main hall where rows of wounded lay on the cold stone. Bofur led her to Oin who handed her an armload of supplies and pointed mutely at the next in line. She moved quickly, Bofur at her side. He became her assistant, restraining those who could not restrain themselves, and for several hours they worked their way through the wounded in silence.

Later she would be horrified by what she saw, but mostly by what she felt, namely relief. It was understandable, anything to take her mind off her own suffering was a welcome reprieve, but nonetheless she would be ashamed that she had found a lighter mood than before in tending the injured and dying.

\----

"Come have dinner with us," Ori called from across the hall. Bilba looked as though she would protest but Bofur stopped her.

"Those who have rested will take our place for a time and you of all people need to be eating some solid meals. No arguments, lass. Come on."

They finished up with their current patient and ambled off in the direction Ori disappeared in. 

"M'lady," Bombur bowed lightly, "would you like cram or cram?"

Bilba smiled wearily. "I imagine that both are quite satisfactory. I shall let the cook decide."

Bombur held out a small cake of cram which Bilba took gratefully. Her eyes sought out Dwalin and she hurriedly made her way to sit with him. He nodded grimly and grimaced as he scooted to the side to allow her a space between himself and Bifur. The taste of cram quickly brought her current situation back to the front of her mind, though she finished the meager portion all the same.

Looking around, she noted the absence of several company members.

"Where are the others?" Bilba asked when she and most of the others had finished their dinners.

"Dori got a knock to the head so he's down in the main hall and Nori took him dinner there. Nothing serious we don’t think. Just a bit of a concussion,," Ori offered.

"Oin is still working with the wounded," Gloin threw in, though Bilba knew quite well where he was.

An uncomfortable silence fell and Bilba knew something was gravely wrong, but she waited, too afraid to ask. Balin finally cleared his throat to explain.

"The lads fell. We were separated and it was just too much for the two of them alone."

Ori started to cry again and Gloin pulled him close. Several of the others appeared to be holding back tears as well. Reflexively, Bilba went numb. It had been her survival mechanism with Thorin, to stop feeling at all, and it came so naturally that she never even shed a tear.

"I'll be heading back to help Oin now. Thank you for dinner," she intoned. Her voice was flat and the expression on her face utterly empty. Several of the others could see that she had retreated back to wherever she had been hiding in her mind for the last several weeks. No one moved to stop her when she left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Again. Next chapter is all the horribleness you've all been wanting and it will be longer to make up for this one. Almost hurray!
> 
> Posting earlier in the day because church all afternoon and evening!!!

The next few days were empty and full at once. The work kept her occupied at nearly all moments- cleaning and redressing wounds, restitching those would were too thick headed to rest properly, which was more than she expected though she reminded herself that hardheadedness was a trait endemic to dwarrow, and assisting with surgeries if only because her smaller hands proved useful in certain situations. She thought little of Fili and Kili and only once of Thorin and no one was so cruel as to remind her.

Bilba took her rest and meals with the others of the company, but it mattered little. In her numbness she didn't need, or want, their compassion or companionship. The hobbit avoided Dwalin altogether but he knew better than to take it personally. Space and time, especially in times of heartbreak such as these, were all anyone had to offer.

Gandalf was about, though Bilba couldn't be sure when he had arrived. He had spoken with her in passing several times but assumed her lack of spirit was due to the loss of her friends and the general air of pain in the mountain at the moment. True to their word none of the company said word one to the wizard about recent events and Bilba was grateful that the need to answer more unpleasant questions had not arisen. Apparently, Gandalf had arranged travel plans for the burglar to return home and she was none too glad to hear them. A mild flutter of hope rose in her chest that she might be able to get on with her life one day, but she quickly crushed it to avoid unnecessary emotions and thinking.

\----

The company, sans Bilba, who was at work with the wounded, and Thorin, who had been returned to his cell, were left in the conference room when Dain and his advisers made their exit. The hearing had been straight forward. Oin had spoken at length with Thorin regarding his behavior prior to the hearing. It had seemed, given his initial reaction, that he would continue to insist upon his innocence, but the news of his nephews' deaths seemed to shake him free of the haze that the goldsickness had brought on. In the end, he offered no defense and admitted his guilt. It was both easier and harder.

Dwalin broke the still of the room by rising and moving towards the door.

"Where are you headed?" Oin asked.

"To see if I can find a scourge of some kind that isn't already dry rotted," he grunted.

Nori shook his head. "You don't have to be the one to do this, you know."

Dwalin lifted his eyebrows in mock curiosity but clearly was not about to be led into whatever the thief was thinking. Giving it a moment he turned away again.

"Merciful Mahal, Dwalin. You love him like a brother, we all know it. You shouldn't have to be the one to do this. If I did something to merit this kind of punishment I would hope someone would have the kindness to relieve my brothers of that burden."

Dwalin's expression didn't change but his shoulders softened almost imperceptibly. "It's my responsibility to make sure that this is done properly. There is no one more experienced than me."

"Maybe not as much legal experience, but I am certainly not a novice," Nori pointed out, much to the dismay of Dori and Ori.

"Come with me then," the tattooed dwarf grunted as he limped out of the room. Nori followed along, ever silent in his movements.

They walked in silence as they descended to the old dungeon. Dwalin's leg was still healing and he opted not to wrench the stitches out by continuing to walk without a break and they rested in an empty hallway some distance from their destination.

"Tell me about your experience."

"I did whatever I was hired to do. Usually it was steal things but there were times when I was gathering information instead. I never had the nicer things that the elite guard used, mostly I just made do with what was at hand- leather straps, canes, knives, hot metal, scourges of all types, gem cutters' tools, whatever I found."

"How accurate can you be with a whip or a cat?"

"Find one and I'll show you," Nori offered.

\----

Dwalin had to admit that he was impressed, though he didn't actually say it. Nori hit the target on the wall dead on each time, once they found a whip that didn't disintegrate on contact that is.

"Can you do it?" Dwalin asked.

"I've done worse. I can do this."

Dwalin just stared as though the truth of the matter would appear if he glared at Nori long enough.

"I can't say that I'll enjoy it, I admired him once, but it won't hurt me as much as it would hurt you and that's the point, isn't it?"

They gathered the rest of their supplies and began the long climb back up to the inhabited levels where they would plan the remainder of the execution, though it would not yet occur for several days.

\----

Days had passed since the battle and Bilba had wondered vaguely about the punishment and whether or not Dain would believe her, but had kept her head down to work rather than giving it much thought. She had, however, finally begun to accept the loss of Fili and Kili. Their memorial service had already passed and she found herself feeling more alone with hundreds than she did trapped in a company of fourteen. It had not occurred to her previously how those two were the life of the company. Every joke seemed that it was either initiated by them or had at their expense and nearly all of the conversations that she had on the road were with them.

Her reverie was interrupted as Ori came to collect the burglar turned medic and she followed obediently to the conference room. The young scribe took his leave and Bilba sat with Balin, Dwalin, and Oin at the table.

"Bilba, as I suspected Dain, has concurred with Oin's recommendations for punishment given his findings. We will carry out the sentence tomorrow. You have several choices. You have the right to attend or not as you see fit. You also have the right to decide whether or not the punishment is carried out in public. For other crimes, regardless of whether or not the punishment is execution, it is public, but because of the personal nature of his crimes and our unique situation you have the right to decide what is best for yourself. Being the only lady in the mountain at the moment it would be obvious who he assaulted, it would remove your anonymity, which is something to consider. There's no need to decide now, we just need to know by morning."

As Balin spoke, Bilba drew herself up into a tiny ball wanting desperately to avoid anything to do with Thorin ever again. Dwalin laid a large hand on Bilba's knee.

"Let's get some food and think on this," Dwalin offered. He had noticed the calming effects of food on the hobbit, something he suspected was a racial trait, and thought that it might help her to collect herself.

"I want to be there. I need to see this. But you're right Balin, I don't want this to be public." She responded as though Dwalin had never spoken and her voice was little more than a whisper.

Balin nodded. "Of course. Now, lass, I understand that Gandalf has arranged travel for you back to your home, correct?"

Bilba nodded almost imperceptibly.

"We'll make a point then to delay the stonecutters' work in inscribing his tomb until you are several days away. His resting place will be marked for his crimes, though you would not be mentioned by name. It would be best if you were out of the mountain by then to avoid unnecessary scrutiny by the others. It is not at all that we would wish you gone, you understand, but if you are to go, then we feel that this would be the easiest for you," Balin explained.

She managed a strangled "Thank you" and with their business concluded Dwalin coaxed her by the hand to get a bit of lunch. They ate in silence, Dwalin giving her a portion of his meat in exchange for her cram as she was still worryingly thin from her ordeal.

When they had finished their meal, the hobbit sat plastered against Dwalin, both for the warmth and for the comfort.

"Lass, tomorrow..." Dwalin finally started.

Bilba cut him off. It was the one thing that she had had on her mind since she found out the punishment but she hadn't the nerve to ask it before. "How is it done?"

Dwalin would have sighed but it was the information he was planning on providing anyway. "First there'll be some ceremonial business- a shearing of his hair and beard and a decent scourging before the execution. The act itself is simple enough- a quick cut to the throat. It's not a kind business lass. Make sure that you understand that before you go in there. And I wouldn't recommend breakfast in the morning just to be safe."

"How long does it all take?"

"Less than an hour."

"Will you be there? I... I feel like I need to go but I just..."

Dwalin squeezed her hand firmly. "Aye, I'll be there. You can stay with me if you need. There's no shame in it."

They sat in silence for a time before Bilba returned to the wounded, intent on doing something useful. Dwalin followed her, saying that he wasn't much good for the more strenuous work, his leg still holding him back, and kept her company for the rest of the day. She knew that Dwalin truly had better things to do but his rough demeanor was comforting all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were paying attention you now know what's coming. It will be in technicolor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you know all those tags about horrible violence and rape? Yea, now would be the time to mind those. 
> 
> Warnings for Bilba's unconscious fears manifesting themselves in nightmares. Several references to rape throughout the chapter. Also, there is a moderate amount of Thorin POV in this chapter- oh joy- and then he gets to do some talking- also a joy. NOT.

The room that she followed Dwalin into was small, not small by hobbit standards but at least smaller than most of the rooms she had been in since coming to the mountain. It was sheer stone on all sides and the company was already waiting against the far wall. Bilba looked around but couldn't find Thorin until she noticed him standing with the others- dressed, armed, and unrestrained.

"Dwalin?! Wha- what's happening? Why isn't he tied up?"

There was no answer as he grabbed her and dragged her towards the wall where a pair of manacles hung. She struggled furiously and screamed and begged for the others to help her. Why was no one stopping this?

"You stole the Arkenstone and then accused me of the worst crime amongst my people to cover your own misdeeds. Today you will pay the price." Thorin's voice was deep and rumbling, full of restrained wrath.

Bilba begged and begged, writhing against the iron around her wrists. It cut deeply as she pulled but in her panic she couldn't feel it nor the blood that seeped down her arms. She never knew that anything could hurt so much nor that she could scream so loudly until the whip fell. In that moment she wished that she had ignored Dwalin when he had come to her and just let herself starve to death as she had intended. It certainly would have been kinder than this.

Dwalin woke before the others. Bilba was bedded down next to him as she had been every night since they arrested Thorin but tonight she was thrashing around and whimpering. Gently, he put a hand on her shoulder and tried to shake her awake. When the desired effect was not achieved Dwalin sat up all the way and pulled back her covers to get a better grip but she began to scream horrifyingly and in an instant every dwarf in the room was awake.

"Bilba! Wake up. Bilba!" Dwalin was shouting and after a moment she seemed to open her eyes but she was clearly still disoriented.

"Don't! I promise I didn't lie. He hurt me. I said no, I said it so many times. I'm not lying. Please, please don't whip me..."

Dwalin cut off her shrieking pleas. "Bilba look at me. Do you know where you are?"

The hobbit cut her eyes around the room in confusion and the panic in her voice outweighed her obvious confusion. "This is where we sleep, isn't it?"

Dwalin nodded. "Aye. You were having a dream lass, just a dream. No one blames you. No one is going to hurt you. You're safe I promise. Come on now, let's get some sleep." 

Without asking, as Dwalin's skills with others were never quite up to par, he pulled her into his lap where she sobbed while the others fell back to an uneasy sleep. Just short of two hours before dawn Bilba finally quieted and her breathing evened out. Carefully, he placed her back in her bedroll and covered her up. His back and legs ached from the strain of holding her for hours and he happily laid down to sleep for what little remained of the night.

\----

As though the morning were not sullen enough there was now a general lack of sleep after Bilba's nightmare and no one ate breakfast, apparently expecting to be quite unsettled by the coming events. Nori was the only person to break with that, although he only managed a bit of elven waybread to have enough strength to complete the task at hand.

They walked together to the holding cells where Dori and Bifur retrieved a shivering Thorin. He was still clad in only what he was left the first day and the mountain was definitely colder now than it had been as the winter winds had come in, drifting easily through the broken walls and passageways. Bilba watched through her hair that she let fall over her face and noted that he was as gaunt as she now. As the group began to move again Bilba slowed to walk at the back of the group in order to put as much distance between herself and Thorin and to keep an eye on him. Pursuant to his promise that he would be there for her, Dwalin slowed to walk with her.

"Why is he so thin?" she finally asked.

"Starvation rations. We've too few resources to be wasting them on one who neither deserves nor needs the food."

The coldness was unexpected, not because Dwalin was a particularly warm-hearted person, but because Thorin was his kin and someone he had followed with unfailing loyalty for over one hundred years. It was unsettling. Bilba had seen their harder sides with the spiders and the goblins but that was different. Around her they had always been, if not kind, at least vaguely personable. To see that they could easily extend that harshness to someone so close to their hearts made her wonder about the true nature of dwarves. 

The room that they gathered in was not dissimilar to the room in her nightmare. The walls and floor were indeed sheer and unadorned stone, but in this room the floor sloped to a central location where there was drain, presumably for easy clean-up, a thought which turned Bilba's empty stomach. 

A sound from behind her made Bilba jump and Dain entered the room followed by several older and grim looking dwarrow. Eyes wide she turned to Dwalin in askance.

"Dain is to be King Under the Mountain and those with him are his advisers. They have to be here, but the proceedings are still closed to everyone else," he explained.

Bilba scooted closer to the frowning dwarf and he gripped her near shoulder firmly.

Thorin was roughly pressed to his knees in the middle of the room facing the crowd. Dori and Bifur held him by his shoulders but he offered no resistance. Nori came to stand behind Thorin and held a knife with a sheep's foot blade in his right hand.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, you have lost all honor, being wanton and criminal, in the eyes of your Maker and your kin. May you be stripped of all signs of honor accordingly."

The knife left a horrid looking rash across his face as his beard fell in roughly cut chunks. A slip of the knife left a cut in his cheek and Thorin grunted but remained still. The hair was a different endeavor. Nori didn't bother to try to cut it at the skin as he had done for the beard, instead cutting handfuls about an inch from the scalp and dropping them to the floor until Thorin appeared no more than a vagrant who had gotten a third rate haircut to minimize the occurrence of lice.

With the last of the hair on the floor Nori made quick work of Thorin's shirt with the knife, leaving the remnants on the floor amidst the tufts of the destroyed black mane. Bifur and Dori roughly pulled Thorin to his feet and to the wall where iron manacles were bolted into the stone. With his hands secured over his head, Thorin planted his feet shoulder width apart and gripped the chains of the iron shackles tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.

While Nori slipped the knife into a sheath at his hip and retrieved the whip, Bilba found her eyes riveted to Thorin's back. She could see the fear in his body language- the way he braced himself unsure of the pain to come, his already labored breathing, the sweat on his skin in a room that was cold enough to merit multiple layers of clothing, the ridges of muscle that stood taut across his back- and all of was so familiar. So many times she found herself bracing for the pain, tense though she was yet untouched, sweating even while light snow fell around them, breathing harder than she ever had fleeing from goblins or wargs. Bilba knew that fear. She could smell it, see it, taste it, hear it, feel it all over her body. She didn't realize that she was shaking until Dwalin spoke.

"Lass, no one expects you watch this. Leave whenever you need. I can go with you if you want."

She fought to control her breathing and find some calm, knowing that if she could not watch him stand there, it would be nigh impossible to watch him die- no matter how much she hated him. Instinctively she moved closer to Dwalin until their sides were flush against one another and the hand from her shoulder moved to wrap around her for support.

She noticed that two of Dain's advisers were watching her and Dwalin and she wondered what they thought. Surely no one thought that they were a couple? Bilba didn't even like Dwalin. Then, Bilba wondered how exactly this strange relationship had evolved. Dwalin seemed to care for her as far as she was treated with the dignity and respect that every person was worthy of but she knew that he held her in no high regard. Certainly, she had never felt any warmth for the brute either, his lovely demeanor taking care of that. 

Nori was taking his time, checking over the whip one last time for any flaws that might result in breakage. It wasn't that he was concerned with hurting Thorin, indeed that was the intent, but he intended to do his job well and leave no room for others to complain that the punishment had not been in accordance with their laws. 

"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, you have lost all humility, being arrogant and prideful in the eyes of your Maker and your kin. May you be humbled accordingly."

The crack that echoed in the room startled several of those present. The hobbit flinched violently and Dwalin tightened his embrace for a moment. Thorin's breath whooshed out of him with barely a grunt. The surprise of the pain had not given him the chance even to call out. Nori paused in between strokes. It allowed for him not to tire too quickly and also for Thorin's anticipation to rise moment by moment.

The next lash drew an audible reaction from the condemned and he twisted against the iron restraints briefly. Typical dwarvish craftsmanship had been spared in this regard and the manacles were rough against his skin, his efforts leaving visible cuts.

While each stroke of the whip left an open wound, Thorin was able to measure his responses as he became familiar with the pain after only another two. Bilba watched in poorly concealed horror as the punishment progressed. It wasn't so much that she felt guilt for Thorin's current situation, but rather that she never wanted to see such a treatment applied to anyone. Hobbits were not such stern folk as the dwarves and she couldn't fathom how this could be reasonable. Nevertheless, she kept her thoughts to herself, knowing that at this late juncture they would be wholly unappreciated, setting aside that the punishment had never been hers to decide.

As the sentence drew on Dwalin could tell when Thorin's stoic hold on the pain faltered. His body began to twitch, just minutely at first, between the strokes but after another several he had begun shaking violently and crying out. The first strangled scream had Bilba turning her face into Dwalin's side to somehow avoid the proceedings. She had no idea how long they had been at this, but it certainly felt longer than the hour Dwalin had estimated. 

The screams grew in intensity as the whipping went on. Bilba forced herself to watch a couple, only to be greeted with a sight that would never leave her for the rest of her days. Thorin's back was less skin and more open wound and blood flowed freely into the cloth of his trousers. There were several members of the company who were crying silently as they watched, though others were frighteningly severe.

Bilba had forgotten to count the number of lashes but she was glad not to know when she saw the final damage. She watched as Nori, clearly winded, set aside the whip and grabbed a bucket from against the wall. The contents appeared to be water but the effect of the liquid on the open wounds made it clear that this was not the case. Thorin screamed and writhed for several seconds as the liquid ran down his back before sagging against his bonds, indifferent to the relatively small amount of pain that it caused.

Walking away, Nori motioned to his brother and Bifur who bracketed Thorin and unlocked the restraints. Instantly, the dwarf collapsed and was held off the floor only by the vice-like grips on either arm. With seeming indifference, the pair dragged Thorin to kneel in the center of the room. They held him in place with an arm each pulled behind the prisoner and their other hands on his shoulders. The intention became more support than restraint as it was obvious that Thorin could not even hold his own weight at the moment.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. You are dishonored and humbled before your Maker and your kin. What do you say for your crimes against Bilba Baggins?"

Thorin raised his head with apparent difficulty and for a moment his eyes seemed to rove aimlessly around the room. His gaze settled for a moment on Bilba but noting her shaking and tears he let his gaze drift to Balin. There was anger, disappointment, and disgust all over his cousin's face, but underneath it all was a pain he didn't expect, though he should have. He felt immense guilt at more than just his crimes now. Finally, in the moment where there was little to be done about it, he was acutely aware how his actions betrayed everyone he loved and everyone who depended on him at possibly their most more vulnerable time in the last century. Suddenly, any words he had prepared failed him and he stammered to gather his thoughts, knowing that there would be no other chance.

"My crimes against Bilba have hurt everyone I care about, though they undoubtedly hurt her the most. I never intended for this to happen though I can brook no excuses for there were many times that she refused me and I took no heed. I see now that even if this had not occurred I would not be a fit king for the same reasons as my father and his father before him were not. It was the greed that the sickness that took me when I committed the _katasharab_ and were it not for my grief at the loss of my nephews I might not yet be lifted from the haze of my sickness enough to recognize my transgressions.

"I apologize to all that I have harmed, most of all to Bilba from whom I have taken many things. I would that someday the light will return to your eyes and that you will no longer need to shrink back in fear when a man looks at you or touches you. I would that you marry and grow old and happy together in the life that you deserve. And I would pray that many warm meals find you healthy and well once more, Mahal knows that your condition is mostly borne of my hand.” He paused, his words and thoughts suddenly departing.

"I... I... that is all," he finally stammered, knowing full well that the end of his words were also the end of his life.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, you have lost all honor and humility in the eyes of your Maker and your kin. In your crimes you have defiled your very being as a dwarf and you have forsaken the blessings of your Maker. What you have wrought in yourself can now only be unmade by our Maker. May you be reforged accordingly."

Fear coursed through Thorin veins in what little blood remained. His head pounded from oxygen deprivation and he knew that even without what came next he would only survive a scant few hours before the blood loss took him, but nonetheless that urge to fight and survive was strong and his muscles tensed even though he had no conscious intention in his mind of rising from his place on the floor.

Feeling the increase in tension Dori and Bifur gripped him harder and twisted his arms uncomfortably. Thorin took solace in knowing that it wouldn't matter now if his shoulders were wrenched dangerously close to dislocation and he closed his eyes.

Nori unsheathed his knife and unceremoniously slit Thorin's throat in one swipe. His skill and the knife's sharpness meant that the trachea was severed completely leaving Thorin to gurgle and sputter as his breath escaped through his neck rather than the naturally intended locations. Eyes wide open, his mouth worked uselessly, shaping words which he could not speak and he began to struggle in spite of his earlier resolve.

Within moments the former King Under the Mountain slumped forward, though his chest continued to heave valiantly for a short time. When all was still Oin stepped forward and checked, pronouncing Thorin dead. Several of the others gathered an oiled canvas that had been folded off to the side and Thorin’s body was unceremoniously dumped in the center. Dori and Bifur wrapped the corpse and with the help of Bofur and Bombur carted him away. 

The others grabbed some stiff bristled brooms and swept up the hair and pieces of shirt, depositing it all in an empty bucket. A few buckets of water were drawn and with the brooms they made quick work of washing away the stains that remained on the floor. In less than five minutes there was nothing to be seen of the previous activities. 

Bilba had slowly backed herself against the wall while the cleanup went on. Dwalin stayed with her, not putting it past her to faint again. Slowly, she crumpled to the floor into the familiar little ball that she often made herself into and began to sob, quietly at first and then in wracking spasms that drew out what sounded like screams. Those who were cleaning kept to their tasks diligently, trying not to embarrass Bilba watching her breakdown. Once done, they filtered out of the room slowly. Dain and his advisers left last, casting a sympathetic gaze small hobbit as they departed.

The room was dark as all but one torch had been taken when the others departed. Even with the brisk cleaning the room still smelled of blood and sweat and Dwalin knew that her surroundings weren’t doing her any favors. 

“Come on, lass. They’ve some decent food that the elves brought in this morning. We should go get some before Bombur finds it,” he suggested. 

Bilba couldn’t bring herself to laugh at the joke but she nodded vigorously and took the offered hand. Dwalin gathered the last torch as they left the room and led her slowly to the kitchens. Acquiring the food was quite easy for the dour dwarf. While the cooks were under orders that no one eat beyond their share of the rations they were entirely disinclined to argue with the swart food thief given his current demeanor. He easily pilfered two small loaves and a spot of cured lamb to split between the two of them. 

The food did her well, not least because she hadn’t yet eaten in the morning and she was a bit woozy. They ate in silence with Dwalin occasionally rubbing her shoulder for comfort if she seemed to be getting overwhelmed again.

“I… I think I’ll be going back down to help with the injured. There’s still wounds to be cleaned and rebandaged. Might as well make myself useful,” Bilba mumbled after the food was gone.

Dwalin nodded, sensing her desire to be alone for a time. “You know where to find me if you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, this in no way means that I think dwarves are somehow all women's lib and shit just because they have anti-rape laws. Quite the opposite. When you have two males to every one female you protect your finite resources. Obviously, there can be some good points to the bad but still.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the slut shaming, forced/pregnancy, and PTSD tags. Nothing too explicit but you know... things.

The day went off well enough once Bilba focused her mind on her work. There were a few times when she had to choke back her tears but it was a skill that she had nearly mastered. The only thing that Bilba found herself truly grateful for was Gandalf’s absence. The old wizard had mentioned something about urgent matters away west and had gone the night before. In recent days he had become increasingly concerned with Bilba’s emotional state, asking her questions and spending time with her when she would rather be doing anything other than talking, but she knew that he understood far more than he was letting on. That he could not bother her now made the situation far less stressful.

Bilba was helping Oin clean an infection, an act which took several pairs of hands since the patient had to be held down, when she overheard several dwarrow gossiping nearby. 

“...morning but I don’t know where exactly.”

“I had wondered why no one had seen Thorin since we got here. What was his crime?”

“Committed the katasharab against the little burglar lass they say. I can see why he fancied her, though you think he would have at least gone for a lass with the sense and manners to wear shoes.”

The dwarrow laughed amongst themselves.

“You think it’s true? You think he did it?”

The dwarf shrugged. “I figure it’s true. Dain approved the sentence. Must be some damning evidence to be putting him to death.”

The others nodded mutely, seeming to agree with that line of thinking.

Bilba flushed furiously and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm herself. When she looked up one of the physicians that was helping was staring knowingly.

“Go,” he whispered softly. “We can handle this ourselves.” He smiled gently to punctuate his statement and Bilba nodded mechanically.

She stumbled as she backed away but caught herself. Oin spared a fleeting glance thinking that it had to do with the morning’s events but quickly turned back to his work, unaware of the quiet conversation she had overheard. She could feel the eyes of the others who had spoken on her back as she shuffled away and when she noticed several other pairs of eyes on her she panicked, setting off into a run.

Her first thought was that everyone knew. It was supposed to stay quiet until she left, she was supposed to have that small grace, but now others were taking the liberty of talking about it in front of her, guessing as to whether or not it had even happened. She ran until she was far from anyone and rested in a small room, enjoying the anonymity that the darkness lent her. 

Once the panic subsided she decided what she needed to do and rallied her flagging strength to go pack. Bilba intended to leave the mountain during the night and make her way home, with or without help. It was dark in the mountain, night having long since descended, and she slipped silently into the shared sleeping room expecting to find piles of snoring dwarrow. Instead, the room was empty and she was grateful for the small kindness as she hurriedly packed what few things she still owned. 

She stared with ire at the mithril chain shirt that Thorin had given her. It would please her to leave it and never see it again but practically she knew that it would be of great value on the road, especially if she planned on travelling alone, so she quickly donned it under her coat. She nicked the remaining cram from the others’ packs, putting it in her own and hoping that the few stale pieces would be enough to last her to the remains of Laketown. 

Using her natural stealth the burglar slipped quietly down the corridors towards the old guard tower. The stair that descended was still functional, albeit a bit broken up in places, but it would make for a fine get away that she doubted was being watched. Her assumption was clearly faulty as she nearly stumbled into Bombur’s seated form.

“Oh thank, Mahal. Lass, we’ve been worried something terrible since you didn’t show up for dinner. Come on now, Dwalin and the others are waiting for you.”

Bilba shook her head and backed away. “I can’t. I have to leave. Someone told them. Everyone knows, Bombur. I can’t stay here anymore.”

He nodded. “I know. They’re got ponies and provisions waiting for you to get you out safely. Come on.”

Bilba swallowed and nodded. Ponies and actual provisions certainly sounded far better than her original plan, though getting her out safely worried her and she couldn’t fathom why she would need such a thing. They walked quickly, by-passing all the populated areas before coming to a different side door. The night air was brisk and Balin, Dwalin, Dain, and Bifur were waiting with two laden ponies.

“Bless the Maker,” Balin sighed.

“Two ponies?” she asked.

“Aye,” Dwalin grunted.

Bilba raised her eyebrows for a moment before again scanning the area for others.

“I said you’d be safe. I promised it. I’ll see to that. Now mount up, we’ve a long ride and the night isn’t getting any warmer,” he grumbled.

“But there shouldn’t be much danger between here and Laketown. Why?” she asked.

Balin’s mouth tightened in a rueful smile. “When we couldn’t find you we started with the last time anyone had seen you. Oin said you left in a hurry but didn’t know why. We asked the others who were present and that young physician told us what you heard. Unfortunately, what you heard this afternoon was not representative of everyone’s opinions on the matter. The orcs and goblins may be dead but there are other dangers for you now I fear. Let us hope that my brother’s skills remain unused for the duration of your journey home.”

Bilba’s head dropped. She had known she would be blamed and here she was running for her life- again. Bifur nudged her towards the pony and lifted her pack away, strapping it in place, but the hobbit remained still.

“Lass, it’s time. I wish that you could have said goodbye any other way. I’ll make sure to tell the others that you got out safely. Do send us a letter when you get resettled. We’ll want to know that you’re well.” 

She nodded at Balin’s words without looking up. Normally, such a farewell would have been met with a hug, but at the moment all she could do was nod and move towards the pony as Dwalin led her along. 

Seated atop the pony she managed a weak “Goodbye” before they rode away. 

“Well come on then. Let’s tell the others so we can call off the search,” Balin said to Bifur and Bombur. 

The other nodded and they walked away, ignoring Dain in their ire. Their company had managed to keep the events under wraps for over a week. His advisers couldn’t do so for an entire day. The lack of respect was palpable but Dain chose to say nothing since he was as disappointed as they in his people.

\----

The silence of the ride to Laketown was broken only by two things: the arrival of a raven from Gandalf telling them to wait for him on the shores of the remains of Laketown and Bilba’s nightmares.

The nightmares Bilba had the night before Thorin was executed were the first that anyone was aware of, but it was simply the beginning of a theme. 

Gandalf joined them after a two day wait in Laketown and they, grudgingly, made for Mirkwood. They were treated well enough by the elves and offered an escort through the wood which they wisely accepted. This leg of the journey was also conducted in relative silence, again broken only by her nightmares. Kindly, neither the elves nor Gandalf commented on her troubles and after several weeks crossing the cursed wood Dwalin had given up all pretenses about propriety. Initially, when they took their rest at night he always placed his bedroll nearby but still a respectable distance away, however, in time what constituted a respectable distance diminished after being awoken every single night for more than a month. By the time their escort departed Dwalin simply planted himself next to her holding her hand from the outset. 

Bilba was too ashamed to ever speak of her nocturnal terrors, knowing that all present were now acutely aware of what had passed between her and Thorin. 

The elves were kind in their parting, but they appeared quite sad. Bilba felt pitied and it ate at her. She wanted simply to be left alone. She had no use for pity or kind words anymore and managed only to nod hastily as they set out to Beorn’s. 

\----

“Bunny!” 

The shout rang loud and joyous over the field as they came into sight of the skin-changer’s home. The name, which had previously annoyed her, felt warm and welcoming and pulled a small smile from her. Dwalin made a mental note to thank the bear-man as this smile constituted the first in many days.

“Congratulations!” he shouted as they drew closer.

Bilba cocked her head to the side and then looked quizzically to Dwalin who shrugged. She tried to think of what could possibly call for such a greeting, but when she found herself at a loss, she asked.

“For your little one, of course. I knew most of the company fancied you, but I never thought you’d choose the one that never smiles.”

Bilba paled, Gandalf bowed his head with a deep sigh, and any appreciation Dwalin had for their host evaporated.

“What’s wrong, bunny?”

She shuffled for a moment, choking out a “pardon me,” before darting away to a location out of sight.

Dwalin stabled and unloaded their ponies before setting off find the hobbit. Gandalf led Beorn inside and tried to explain the situation as delicately and as vaguely as he could. A loud bellow from inside the house led Dwalin to believe that Beorn had gained some sort of insight into the situation.

He found her folded up under a peach tree with a vacant look on her face. He sat with her in silence long enough to track the sun across the sky.

“We can’t sit here forever,” he said in his ever grating tone.

“Then what do I do?” she asked.

“How do you mean?”

Bilba looked side-long at Dwalin as though he were stupid. “I can keep it and be labelled a slattern and the child a bastard as it has no father and was born out of wedlock, I could claim that the father simply died but I never intend to claim him for anything, or I could give it up but who would want the only half-breed dwarf-hobbit child in Middle Earth? I suppose I could simply explain the truth but there would be little sympathy for a lass who ran off on an adventure with a band of dwarrow. ‘What did she expect would happen?’ they would say. I don’t want to go home like this. I can’t.”

Dwalin was surprised how well thought through and calm her response was until he realized what it meant.

“How long have you known?”

“I wasn’t certain mind you, but I would say since halfway through Mirkwood I had a feeling.”

Dwalin nodded silently and Bilba stared into nothingness for a while longer. When the last of the daylight was waning and even Dwalin had to admit his hunger, though in reality he did not as his stomach more than loudly declared it, and he nudged Bilba.

“Come on. Let’s get some dinner and we’ll think it over. They’ll be out here looking for us soon anyway.”

She nodded and accepted the offered hand.

Beorn had left for the night to do his nightly patrol as Gandalf put it, but there was indeed a lovely spread of food other than lembas and salted pork awaiting them. The hobbit ate well, very well, given her attitude Gandalf thought before he realized that it was likely her state of mind which prompted the desire for comforting food items. When dinner was consumed she quickly begged off for a bath and sleep. 

Dwalin bathed after she was finished and made no attempt at hiding the fact that he went to the same room as Bilba. He had intended to sleep on the floor until needed, but the bed was absurdly large. She noticed his momentary pause and guessed rightly as to his train of thought.

“Just take the other side. It’ll be more comfortable and you might as well start here to begin with,” she muttered. It was embarrassing, admitting that she needed company at night to be able to sleep. This hadn’t been an issue since she was a fauntling and even then it was not a nightly ordeal. 

Dwalin changed into a clean pair of trousers and a tunic while her back was turned and climbed into the bed leaving several feet between the two of them for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW I assume that Beorn has a good sense of smell like most animals and that would explain his lovely little insight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Lobelia being a total asshat, though that gets fixed up quite nicely.
> 
> After this chapter we'll begin skipping even larger tracts of time because daily hobbit shit is boring as sin. 
> 
> Also, I am ridiculously surprised at the popularity of this piece, so, uh, thanks for that readers. It just makes my day.

The only further mention of Bilba’s condition at Beorn’s was the skin-changer’s offer to put her and her companions up until the child was old enough to travel. She refused.

If it was possible for the journey to be more silent than it had been, it was. Dwalin, for his part, was no more social than normal, though even his usual grim cheer had been replaced by grief for his losses now that the urgency of their escape and then their time with the elves had passed. Bilba never heard him cry but she saw him wipe his eyes more than once. Gandalf seemed downcast but not from grief, just concern for his companions, especially Bilba.

Despite it all they had continued towards Hobbiton, even though Bilba was yet unsure of her destination.

It was more than a week after they had left Beorn’s, marching the countless leagues that the eagles had graciously carried them before, that Bilba finally spoke. The wizard had gone somewhere to do some unnamed task during the night and they remained the two of them huddled about the fire.

“I need to go home. I can’t live somewhere else, with dwarves or men or elves. I need to live where I belong, but I’m scared.”

“Scared of what lass?”

Bilba shifted and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was better off, especially after feasting for several days at Beorn’s, but the feat of shrinking herself to such a small size was still far too easy.

“I don’t know. Scared of what people will say. Scared of how they will blame me- and they will blame me Dwalin, not outright, but they’ll imply it, saying I invited it with my actions, that I should have expected as much. I guess I’m scared that I will always be alone. No one will marry me now and I doubt anyone would want my child either. It’s so unfair that even now, dead and far away, he still robs me of happiness and a normal life.”

Dwalin ignored most of her comments, having nothing of value to add. “Would it make a difference if you were married when you returned?”

Bilba shrugged. “I guess so. It would still be weird though, a half-dwarf child can’t be terribly easy to conceal amongst hobbits and even then, where would we find a hobbit willing to marry me as I am? Not to mention that I have no desire for a bedmate now, and possibly ever.”

“What if you had a dwarf? There would be no cause for gossip beyond the marriage itself,” he reasoned.

“And where would we get…” her voice trailed off as he caught his meaning. “Wha-what do you mean?”

“I swore to protect you and it appears that simply escorting you home is not sufficient. I offer to be your husband and raise your child with you.” 

Dwalin’s declaration was delivered with the same tone he used when pointing out that rain was on the horizon. Bilba gaped.

“But… I… you can’t mean… Dwalin I don’t mean to be rude but I’m not interested in you, not like _that_.”

“And I am not interested in you in such a way either. Our life would be as it is now, working together and eventually doing the same with a child. No more. Separate bedrooms if you like.”

Bilba looked at the ground with intensity, seeming to read some hidden text that Dwalin could not see. She shuffled uncomfortably and periodically sputtered half broken syllables or phrases only to come up short and go quiet again. After a time, Dwalin knew that there would be no decisions or coherent thought tonight and said as much, banking the fire and moving to his bedroll.

\----

When they awoke Gandalf was merrily puffing his pipe by the remains of the fire. As they packed he raised an eyebrow at his companions but tactfully stayed his tongue on the matter. It was several days later that they came to the foothills of the Misty Mountains. Dwalin’s proposition was pushed aside in favor of the grueling ascent. 

As it turned out, their detour through the goblin caves had come with benefits such as skipping much of the ridiculously unpleasant terrain. Fortunately, they did not encounter goblins and their aching legs, for the ponies could not bear their riders on the steep paths, were all they suffered for their troubles. Finally, several tiresome days later, they descended rapidly, and easily, to the foothills on the western side of the mountains. 

Their arrival in Rivendell was welcomed, more so by Bilba and Gandalf, though Dwalin was grateful for the hospitality yet again. After a meal that was unpleasantly devoid of meat, the hobbit lass was escorted by Lindir, their liaison, to an elven physician.

“Close to four months now miss, though you aren’t yet showing which worries me,” he announced. “Your condition is quite lacking.”

Bilba sighed and lowered her head. “I’ve been gaining weight steadily. We just lacked for such a long time that I was quite poorly before. I’ll be alright.”

He nodded with a look that said he understood more than either of them said and let the matter rest.

Dwalin was waiting on the balcony in their room when she entered.

“Well?”

“Nearly four months. They worry that I’m too thin, but there’s not much to be done for the time being,” she sighed shrugging out of her coat and curling onto the oversized settee.

Dwalin nodded and looked back out over the valley thinking of the differences in both their lives since the last time they had seen the valley.

“Have you thought any more about it?” he finally asked.

“I have, but I’m hesitant. Don’t you want to go home? Don’t you want to marry one day? I don’t want to just be some duty in your life that you come to resent in time. I… I’ll manage one way or another. I can’t ask you to do this.”

Dwalin rose and moved to join her on the settee. “Go home to what? The mountain holds nothing for me but gold. Those who held my loyalties are gone and I am not needed, though even if I was I don’t know that I have the heart for much more after all these years and all that has come to pass. And lass, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly a winning catch for the dams. Craft-wedded I am, too absorbed in my work to have a care for romance. I don’t mind duty, it's my craft you could say, and I would be glad for a duty that did not involve any more killing and death for I have long suffered more of that than anyone should.”

Bilba nodded and sat still absorbing his words. The solution was so simple and it seemed to be an actual solution to her situation but the thought of being someone’s charge, someone’s responsibility, someone’s duty, it was not what she had wanted in a marriage.

Dwalin seemed to understand her train of thought. “Lass, you know I helped raised those boys. Fili was eighty-two and Kili was seventy-seven. I was there when Thorin went off to work in other towns and he was there when I had to leave. I taught them to fight from the day they were old enough to hold a weapon but it all came to burying them in the end, didn’t it? I had thought my life would be in the service of the King Under the Mountain but these things change. We have to make what we can out of what we have left when the rest is dead and buried. All I have left is my promise to keep you safe and you need a husband and a father for your child. If it could be, I would have you find a nice hobbit lad, but you’ve made it clear that it can’t happen. Make the best of what you can.”

Bilba shook her head. “I just… I don’t want to push you into anything.”

Bilba started when Dwalin actually chuckled. “You’re not pushing me anywhere. I offered, remember? Besides, do you think anyone ever pushes me into anything? Stop your worrying and fussing.”

She dropped her head and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.

\----

Dwalin explained it to Gandalf the following morning while Bilba stared at the floor with determination. The wizard refrained from asking any personal questions. Instead, he nodded and murmured something about their foresight and good sense. 

As Gandalf was currently unoccupied and they were already located on a lovely balcony he suggested they get the formalities out of the way. The vows were simple and quick. Bilba flinched when Gandalf told Dwalin that he could “kiss the bride” but a gentle brush of his lips on her forehead was the worst of it and she was pleased to find her fears unfounded. 

Bilba took her leave to walk the gardens, something Dwalin had exactly no desire to participate in, and Dwalin took some of the gold from Erebor that was in their provisions and found the smithy. The rings and hair clasps were simple enough to make and he was done by midafternoon. 

Bilba commended his metal working skills when she saw the rings, though she was thoroughly confused at the clasps.

“What are these for?”

“Dwarvish wedding bands. You wear them in your hair,” he explained. Bilba looked noncommittal, as indeed she was about the entire endeavor. “What” he went on, “you want this to be authentic looking, aye?”

Bilba shrugged. “Fine then, but you know gold is a bit ostentatious for the Shire?”

“Between us we can claim a seventh of the wealth of Erebor. I think we might be able to afford some gold bands.”

A slight nod indicated her agreement, or at least her disinclination to argue the point, and she took the ring from the table where she had been admiring it and put it on. Dwalin followed suit and they proceeded to finish their business by braiding their hair and attaching the clasps.

Dinner was quiet and the only acknowledgement of their union, though everyone at the table snuck a peek now and again, was a nod and silent raising of Elrond’s glass to the pair.

\----

Between the two weeks they rested in Rivendell, mostly on the premise of feeding Bilba a proper seven meals a day, and the subsequent six weeks on the last leg of their journey to the Shire, Bilba had grown obviously pregnant and was not amused at Dwalin’s idea to stop at the troll hoard.

“I am far from poor by hobbit standards and you already showed me the gold our ponies carry. We are wealthy beyond measure for the Shire. This is a waste of time.”

Gandalf smirked under his beard but kept silent. _Married indeed_ , he thought to himself.

“Humor me. We might need the coin.”

“I would rather the ride the rest of the way than walk so that the ponies can carry this. I am tired and pregnant and my swollen feet hurt.”

Dwalin ignored her as he loaded the ponies. Bilba glared at him for the two days it took to walk to Bree. Her mood lightened considerably when Dwalin hired a spare pony for her to ride, making the last two days of their journey much more pleasant for all concerned. However, finding her cousins selling off her things and moving into her home upon their arrival quite shot all the cheer from the little group.

Lobelia sputtered and stared, Otho simply ducked his head and turned beet red in shame, and the other hobbits who were attending the auction quickly made off before they could implicated in Lobelia’s actions. 

Bilba was livid and at a complete loss for words. Unfortunately, Lobelia did not suffer the same affliction.

“How dare you? How dare you return after all this time?”

“How dare I? It’s my house! Forgive me for continuing to draw breath, Lobelia. I hadn’t realized that my continued existence was such an offense to your tender sensibilities,” Bilba retorted, her anger at being accused of living unjustly proving too much for her silence.

“And what of it if I am offended? You sully the Baggins good name, coming back after tramping off across the world to who knows where and coming pregnant of all things. Slatternly, that’s what you are, bringing down our good name and…”

“That’ll be enough woman,” Dwalin cut in. “That’s my wife you’re speaking of and you’ll mind that tongue of yours should you wish to keep it.”

Bilba’s eyes went wide at the threat, more in amusement and surprise than worry as she knew it was idle, and then she found herself stifling her laughter at Lobelia’s deepening indignation. 

“Wife?!” she screeched. “You married a dwarf? Of all the uncouth things, Bilba Baggins your father would be ashamed.”

“Dare I say that Otho married you, you troll of a woman, and we are still ashamed in that as well. Given our general acceptance of his poor life decisions I doubt it will be scandal you suspect.”

Gandalf chuckled merrily in the background, thoroughly enjoying the banter. 

Before Lobelia could continue the tirade Dwalin stepped to less than a foot from the pleasant hobbit. “This is your last warning,” he snarled as he pulled an axe free of its holster. “You will leave now and we expect that my wife’s things will be returned to her by the morning. _Go_.”

Lobelia backed away, her pride and bluster entirely gone, and she hurriedly turned to gather a few things, including Otho, before practically running down the lane. Otho, for his part, did not look so thoroughly terrified as he probably noticed Bilba’s smirk and Gandalf’s chuckles, but felt no need to press his luck and hurried along with his wife.

Gandalf shut the door behind them and Bilba all but fell into the nearest chair. 

“By Yavanna, that woman…” she muttered.

“Never seen that side of you, lass,” Dwalin joked. “You’ve quite the tongue.”

“You develop it when she’s always at the door after your home,” she replied without opening her eyes.

“Bilba, dear, why don’t you go off for a nap. I’m sure that Dwalin and I can take care of things for a while,” Gandalf suggested.

“Mmm,” she nodded. “Hamfast Gamgee…”

“...is your family’s gardener. I will contact him to help us restock the pantry and see to any repairs and other miscellany that needs attending to. Now off with you,” Gandalf said as he made a shooing motion at the hobbit.

She struggled to her feet as Dwalin and Gandalf went to retrieve their things from the ponies. Not bothering to find the master bed, she opened the nearest room that had a bed and fell on it without bothering to remove her travelling clothes, coat, or mail. It was late in the day when she awoke and only then because Dwalin came to get her, declaring something about missing tea and dinner already and that she would not be missing supper as well.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Babies that look like their sires and ripping newly mending wounds right the fuck back open. Be aware of that. Also, fluff, beware of that too. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened there. It was a mistake.
> 
> Also, sorry that this is a short chapter but more things happen after this. Sometimes it just happens this way.

Dwalin was leaned on the post of the entryway to the sittingroom when Bell Gamgee emerged. He had been thinking of Bilba’s nightmares and the unpleasant turn they had begun to take. While, he wanted her secret to hers alone he knew that like as not Bilba would have some sort of reaction to seeing the child and that some form of exposition on the matter would occur, likely in Bell’s presence. It was something to clarify with the woman beforehand.

“She said to tell you that was needing a nap and to get her in time for dinner,” she explained as she came down the hallway alone.

Dwalin grunted his acknowledgement. 

“She’s fine,” she dark haired hobbit reassured him. “She’s already two weeks overdue, it’s no wonder she’s tired.”

“Dwarrowdams bare for around ten months,” he explained tersely.

“That would do it then. Well any day now,” she chimed walking towards the door.

Dwalin stepped in front of her. “How discrete are you?” he asked in his threatening voice.

Bell looked unimpressed. “In what regard?”

Dwalin glared. “In all regards.”

“Dear, if you mean that the child is not yours and not wanted I already knew. She doesn’t hide her disdain for her current state terribly well, at least around me, and the two of you are hardly warm or loving. It wasn’t much of a mystery.”

The dwarf drew a deep breath and impulsively reached for the axe which he had finally stopped carrying after nearly four months in the Shire. Bell simply continued to stare, waiting for his reaction. When he said nothing Bell indulged her curiosity.

“So what are you, to Bilba I mean?”

“I swore to protect her.”

“After or before…” she let the sentence trail off since they both were aware how they arrived in this state.

“After.”

Bell nodded. “And so the marriage- for the sake of the child or entirely fake?”

“It’s legitimate and for the sake of them both. The first words out of Lobelia’s foul mouth were to accuse her of being slatternly. Her hurts are enough without the gossip of raising a bastard child.”

Bell nodded. “Good then. I’ve to go check on another mother before tea, but don’t worry yourself. I’ve no desire to hurt her, the child, or you and I’ve learned far worse in my profession without spreading it about.”

Dwalin nodded and stepped out of her way. When the door clicked shut he slowly made his way to the kitchen to have a go at cooking while he had the time to think it through. Bilba never complained outright about his cooking since she was simply grateful not to be on her feet making it, but her grimaces needed no elaboration. His determination to improve was amusing to Bilba but she refrained from heckling for his sake, though he would likely have muttered something under his breath and ignored her anyway.

\----

“You’ve got to look, lass,” Dwalin growled.

Bilba trembled and shook her head, resolutely keeping her eyes closed.

“For Mahal’s sake, Bilba,” he grumbled and she shook her head again, the tears trailing down her cheeks. Dwalin felt guilty at the tears and sat closer, holding her hand.

“Answer me this: do you plan to keep him?”

Bilba fairly sobbed at the question but managed a nod.

“Well then, you’ll have to look at him one day won’t you?”

Bilba shook with a mix of rage and fear and hurt. “What if he looks like him?” she whispered.

Dwalin tightened his grip on her hand and Bell looked down at the bundle in her arms. It was never supposed to hurt, not like this, when you welcomed your son into the world.

“Aye, and what if he does? There’s naught to be done about it. He’s not Thorin, he’ll not treat you like that, no one will.”

Across the room Bell had seated herself in the rocker with the babe, expecting the conversation to take some time. These things were never easy or quick. But, just as she got comfortable, the child wriggled and cooed, the cooing shortly giving way to whining and then crying. 

“He’s hungry Bilba. You need to feed him,” Bell gently explained.

Bilba made no sign that she had heard.

“He’s not getting any younger or planning on looking any different any time soon, but it sounds like he’s quite hungry. How long do you plan on letting this go on?” Dwalin asked, his little patience growing thinner by the moment. It did not help that his normal method of persuation and encouragement was to threaten and goad until the desired outcome was achieved.

“He’s a baby, nothing more. Mahal’s hammers, lass, I’m his bloody cousin and you trust me more than your own child. Pull it together.”

Bilba choked back a sob and Bell wondered if this was how he always dealt with her but assumed, and hoped, not. Birth tended to shorten tempers and bring out the worst in people, not that Dwalin was fantastically warm to begin with, and she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Surprisingly, Dwalin’s gruff words had the intended effect and Bilba nodded briskly, extending her arms. 

Bell made quick work of depositing the baby where it belonged. She knew that if Bilba lost her nerve it would be hard to regain that ground for some time, perhaps at all.

The gentle wriggling in her arms made Bilba’s breath catch. He felt so small, so unassuming and harmless, so helpless, and she couldn’t find it to fear him any longer. Drawing a deep breath for courage she opened her eyes.

“He has his hair and eyes,” she murmured. It was the first thing she noticed and it was all she could see.

“Aye, he does. He also has your nose and hobbit feet. He’s still your son, not his, and I may not be the sire but I am the father.” He paused. “He’s beautiful, Bilba.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she nodded, grateful at the kind words. That anything so kind or warm passed Dwalin’s lips was made all the sweeter for the rarity of the event.

Bell took the opportunity to help Bilba latch her son and then set about gathering the soiled bedlinens and other used materials. Once the babe had nursed Bell and Dwalin got Bilba up and cleaned and dressed in clean, dry clothes. She was asleep with the little one not a full minute after lying down.

\----

Dwalin retreated to the hallway in search of some space and a bite of food it there was anything available that didn't require preparation. 

"Has she told you the name?" Bell asked as she caught up with him in the kitchen.

Dwalin shook his head and absconded with the cookie jar from the pantry.

"She wants to name him for you father, obviously assuming that it was boy-child."

Dwalin nearly lost his grip on the jar. "What? Why?"

"She told me that he must have been a good fellow to raise you and your brother up like you are," the midwife offered gently. 

Dwalin sat in the nearest chair and tried to breathe evenly. It was a rare day that he thought of his father anymore. The last he had seen of him was his body burning on a pyre with scores of others at Azanulbizar, never to be returned to the stone with his kin where he belonged. And Dwalin thought about him- he was a good a dwarf. He was honest, disciplined, loyal, and a proud and loving father. Dwalin couldn't put a finger on what it made him feel but it certainly found a raw spot within his heart.

"She didn't tell me, what's his name, Dwalin?"

Dwalin looked up, surprised that Bell was now seated in the chair next to him.

"His name is Fundin," he answered.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we get around to seeing some processing of emotions and events. There is some rather pointed discussion of prior events that would probably definitely be triggering if any of this kind of this gets you (of course you're probably not still reading this if that's the case). 
> 
> BTW this is that long chapter you've been waiting for. Also, I skipped a lot of time because reasons.

Bilba stood in the kitchen cooking breakfast and Dwalin sat on the sofa reading a book. Fundin was spending the week in Tuckborough with his cousins and they had the house to themselves. They had risen late, enjoying the quiet, and they were finally getting their day underway. She had been fidgety all morning but over time he had accepted that as either a lasting effect of her abuse or maybe just a nervous tick that came out when she felt stressed. Either way, he chose not to call attention to it having learned early on that pointing it out simply meant she felt like the world could see her burdens.

“Dwalin,” Bilba looked at the floor as she spoke and her voice was timid in a way that Dwalin hadn’t heard in the last couple of years, “have you ever been with a lass before?”

The book he was reading lowered slightly as he looked over the top edge at his wife. “Aye,” he answered quietly.

“I was wondering if you might… I mean…” Bilba stuttered and stammered, finally falling silent.

“What are you getting at lass?” he inquired with his gentle voice, the one he had cultivated after learning to care for Bilba.

“What’s it like? I mean, I guess you could say I know but I was just wondering, it wasn’t like, um, oh bother. I, I don’t know…” she trailed off.

Dwalin carefully set down his book on the side table and regarded her carefully. She had stopped wringing her hands around the dishrag and she stared uncomfortably at the floor where she stood by the stove, clearly wishing that she could take back her words.

“I don’t mind.”

Bilba’s head snapped up and she stared at her husband with wide eyes and then flushed furiously.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. It’s horribly improper to talk about such things,” she stated. “Forget I ever brought it up.”

“How long has it been on your mind, Bilba?”

The flush that had only begun to recede returned in full force. “Oh, a few months now. I just wondered, you know, what it’s supposed to be like. The things I heard in my tweens didn’t exactly line up with it all and I was just thinking maybe it was all talk or some such nonsense.”

“I think we should talk about this if it’s been bothering you for so long, it’s not going to go away and I am your husband after all. There’s nothing improper about talking to me on such topics,” he encouraged. Personally, he didn’t think it mattered much whether or not they were married, friendships as close as these often had more intimate undertones, especially between her past and Dwalin’s, both of them having nightmares and memories of painful events which tended to surface in the middle of the night necessitating the comfort and closeness of the other person. But closeness aside Dwalin knew that, trust or no, her hobbity sensibilities often overrode common sense and reason.

Bilba shuffled in place a little more and when she looked up Dwalin was holding out his hand. She ducked her head but he saw the smile form on her lips and knew that she would join him on the sofa when she had gathered her courage.

She folded up in the same small shape she always took when her memories came back to haunt her and she tucked under Dwalin’s waiting arm. Bilba was still fidgeting and embarrassed and he knew that she would sit still and unspeaking for a week if she was left to it.

“Can I ask you something?”

Bilba tensed but nodded immediately.

“I know we’ve never talked about the details but some of that might come up if we talk about this. Are you alright telling me?”

There was a pause followed by more silent nodding.

Dwalin lapsed into silence, unsure of where to start. Eventually he decided that it would be easier to know what she knew of relations aside from her time with Thorin.

“In your youth, did you ever have trysts or dalliances?”

Bilba trembled and managed a “no” that sounded more like a sob that a word. Dwalin rubbed her arm gently.

“He was the first then. Mahal, Bilba, I had no idea.” Dwalin tried to contain his anger and his pain at finally understanding and held her closer.

Her little frame was shaking. She buried her face in his ribs and clutched his tunic in her fists. Other than her nightmares, it had been years since he had seen her like this.

“I… I… I’d never so much as kissed anyone before…” The words were muffled against his body but in the still and quiet of the morning in Bag End they rang in Dwalin’s ears like hammers on anvils.

Her shaking increased and Dwalin lifted her slight, but full, frame into his lap with practiced ease. It was always the place she preferred when she was upset because he could hold her with both arms. He held, rocked, and soothed her for many minutes and when she looked up he was surprised to note to complete absence of tears.

“I thought you were crying,” he muttered absently as he brushed her hair back.

Bilba shook her head lightly. “I don’t cry anymore. I spent all my tears for that. All I have left is the fear and the pain.”

Dwalin nodded. “Aye, that’s the right of it. I understand that.” He was not lying. Years on the battlefield had shown him what it meant to cry all the tears you could so that, even years later, there would be none to fall when the pain came back again and again.

She swallowed, her Tookishness shoring up or her shame petering out, Dwalin couldn't tell which, and he could see that she was ready to go on.

“So, how is it then? Does it always hurt?”

“No. It doesn’t always hurt, in fact it shouldn’t. In my experience, both parties enjoy the act when done well.”

Bilba nodded and stilled as she processed the new information. She opened her mouth to ask another question but shifted instead and Dwalin took the cue to rearrange her back to sofa next to him.

“So why did it hurt so much for me? Was he just not good at it?”

Her naivete stung Dwalin and for a moment her entertained the idea of letting her think that it was indeed the case. It was certainly kinder than the truth.

“No, he knew better. You don’t have to answer this but it will help me explain. How much time did he take with you beforehand?”

Bilba cocked her head to the side and thought. “What do you mean ‘beforehand?’”

“I mean before he entered you. How long did he spend touching and pleasing you?” The question hurt to ask and he knew it had to hurt to hear. If it weren’t for years of working in the guard, talking to victims, talking to criminals, asking similar questions, he wouldn’t have been able to say it all. As it was, it was a near thing anyway.

Bilba’s face dropped. “None.”

“That’s why it hurt lass. It takes time to get a lady ready for such activities. Forcing it too soon will hurt nearly every time.”

“So… he knew? And he did it anyway?”

“Yes.”

Bilba went red and Dwalin was pleased to see her anger rather than her pain. Anger meant she still had some fight left in her. There had been no fight for the first year, except when Lobelia had come around, and it had been slowly building for the last three. This, however wrong it all was, was still an improvement.

“That arse. I thought maybe the possessiveness was all because of the goldsickness. I thought that it would explain his lust, his refusal to accept ‘no’ as an answer. It made it easier to forgive. But what excuse would this have? What about the goldsickness would make him think to hurt me every time? To do it intentionally?”

Dwalin waited before answering. Her anger was near boiling over and he wanted to give her a chance to simmer a bit before fanning the flames.

“There is no excuse and neither was the goldsickness. You never owed him a reason or your forgiveness and if you never give it no one would think less of you.”

For a moment Bilba seemed to shrink away, as though her anger were replaced by pain, but then sprung up and stomped across the livingroom into the kitchen and slammed the skillet back on the stove. Dwalin picked up his book and pretended to read while watching her. This was far and away the most anger he had ever seen her display.

Breakfast was made and served in silence, silence that was periodically punctuated by the forceful use of the teapot or the violent jab of a fork as it dragged over her plate in search of another bite. Without warning she slammed her fork to the table and looked up.

“You know what makes me the angriest? It’s like he can’t ever stop taking from me. I was young when I joined the company you know, just a year past my majority. I didn’t know if I wanted a marriage, if I even wanted a man, and I certainly didn’t know if I wanted to raise children, but because of what he did I have all of those things now. And don’t get me wrong, I love Fundin, truly, and now that he’s here I can’t imagine a life without him, but it was supposed to be my choice. And now as a married adult and parent I’m stuck asking the same questions that I asked as a child.”

As if to punctuate her rising voice she slammed her fist down on the table hard enough to knock over her teacup and the rattle the dishes.

Dwalin sat quietly and waited. Eventually, she sighed and looked up.

“Dwalin, I’m sorry. You do so much for us. I didn’t mean to imply that…”

“None of that. There’s nothing wrong with being angry over it all. I know how you mean it.”

Bilba nodded and looked down. “I feel like a little child. I have all these questions but I’ll never have the answers, like I’m forever too young. It’s infuriating.” She sighed and pulled at her hair which was not yet done up for the day. “I guess I’m just letting myself get carried away. I don’t get all wound up when my conkers game gets interrupted. I should try to manage my disappointment a bit better, I am an adult after all.”

Dwalin leaned forward. “I’m going to assume that you misspoke when you compared conkers to sex, aye?”

Bilba flushed a little and shook her head.

“Bilba, sex is more than just a spot of fun that marrieds share. I would have understood if you were content to never broach the subject again but honestly I can’t say I’m surprised that you did. That you would want what most other grown folks do is only normal.”

“Well it doesn’t matter at any rate so there’s no use going on about it,” she declared as she began to clean up her spilt tea.

“How’s that?”

“Well I’m not going to go down to Bree for the weekend to find myself a bed partner and I can’t very well just court another hobbit, being married and especially not with my history. So there’s nothing for it.” Bilba left her rag in the sink and settled back down at the table, tucking into the remains of her breakfast as dutifully as any emotionally overwrought hobbit might.

Dwalin wasn’t exactly hurt that she left him out of the equation but rather amused at her oversight, if oversight it indeed was. It was an odd idea that he had, one that he hesitated in sharing. They shared an easy friendship, one of the closest of his life surprisingly, and he did not wish to damage that or cause her further pain with an ill-thought out idea. Nevertheless, as the breakfast ended and Bilba cleared the table Dwalin found himself still seated at the table deep in thought, oblivious to the hobbit’s quiet movements.

“So,” Bilba started as she settled into her chair, “what are you thinking about?”

Dwalin snapped from his thoughts and noticed with a bit of surprise that the table was clear. He sighed and decided to speak his mind, something that had always been expected of someone so lacking in tact.

"It doesn't have to be that way you know, not ever having intimacies with another."

Bilba cocked an eyebrow and smirked, clearly settling back into her smart alec attitude that she had taken to using with the frequently gruff Dwalin. "Your suggestion?"

"You could always ask your husband."

Dwalin didn't break eye contact when he elaborated and Bilba's eyes turned to saucers immediately. It was followed immediately by the flush that she often sported.

"Are- are you asking?" she stammered, the panic clear on her face and in her voice.

Dwalin shook his head. "No, I would never. I'm simply offering. There's a league of difference between the two."

Bilba did not look remotely convinced but politely nodded her agreement anyway.

"Bilba, I swore to protect you, that includes from myself. I was only offering you what may be your only option to ever know. I overstepped. Forgive me."

"So- so you're only offering out of some sense of duty? No offense, Dwalin but I don't want that either."

The tension seemed to drain from her body when she understood Dwalin's meaning and she momentarily felt silly for worrying that he would ever hurt her. However her realization did nothing to abate her longstanding guilt of being a burden.

Dwalin sighed, feeling mildly annoyed that they were back to the discussion of duty again. "Not out of a sense of duty lass. That would indeed be an untoward affair."

Bilba cocked her head sideways and stared inquisitively. "What then?"

"For one thing I offered because I care."

"You also swore to protect me because you care, doesn't make it any less out of duty."

Dwalin sighed. He had clearly been wrong to bring this up. Bilba needed to feel safe with him- unquestionably- but now he had gone and brought up the single thing that had hurt her the most. Of course she would refuse and Dwalin felt stupid for thinking anything else, whatever his intentions had been.

"What else then?" Bilba pressed from the sink in the kitchen where she was doing the washing up.

The sink was around the corner from the dining area and Dwalin made his way to join her where they could at least speak without shouting their private business through walls.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you said 'for one thing,' as though there were more things to consider."

Dwalin could curse the Valar for this woman's perceptiveness and unwillingness to let this go.

"I know you think I stay out of duty and it is true, I would never leave after I made my promise, but I would stay without it too." Bilba paused her washing to stare Dwalin in the face. "I know it was tough for you at first when you joined the company and we were hard you, but we grew to respect you though I doubt you ever realized. Then, coming back here, raising a child with you, sharing a life with you, things changed. I care for you. That's why I offered, not because I feel responsible for you, but simply because I enjoy seeing you happy."

The look of complete shock on Bilba's face not at all the reaction Dwalin expected. Upon reflection, he wasn't sure at all what he expected but he he had the sneaking suspicion that it was going spectacularly badly.

"And that's it? That's all of it then?" she asked.

If they were going for broke here Dwalin figured he might as well play his whole hand. "Well, it doesn't hurt your case, being as comely as you are and all that."

Bilba shifted and laughed uncomfortably. "There's no need to lie."

"Lying? About you being pretty? Lass, I think you might have missed half the company mooning over you while we were on the road. Does the mirror in the bath not work or have you just not been looking?"

Bilba flushed furiously and smiled, momentarily forgetting the reason Dwalin brought up her good looks at all. As a youth she had not been pursued with much effort. She simply thought that the others found her homely, but in truth she was simply too adventurous and strong-willed for the typically timid hobbit lads of the Shire. The idea that anyone, especially plural anyones, were mooning over her renewed some of her long flagging self-esteem.

When given a moment to ponder what was just said, beyond the lovely compliments, she was struck by Dwalin's sentiments. She had heard similar sentiments from Thorin on many dark nights but hearing it from Dwalin was different.

"Are you- what are you saying Dwalin? Are you saying you are in love with me?"

Dwalin offered up one of his rare smiles and chuckled. "No lass, not exactly. It's rather that I care deeply, although it isn't a romantic thing."

"But you want to bed me?"

"Lass, I enjoy your company and I would continue to enjoy it just the same whether or not we ever carried this further. I am not wanting for anything."

Bilba swallowed hard and nodded. She believed him but knowing that he fancied her, however slightly, was terrifying since the last person that she knew had fancied left her shattered. No amount of knowing she was safe would make her feel it at the moment and she shuffled backwards until she bumped into the wall. The impact made her start and Dwalin immediately put distance between them, backing slowly to the other side of the kitchen and sitting against the wall to minimize his imposing stature. Shaking, Bilba slumped to the floor and stared determinedly at the floor between her feet.

They sat in tense silence for several minutes until Bilba muttered something under her breath.

"You wouldn't ever hurt me." It was phrased as a statement, even sounded like one, but it was clearly a question.

"No, I wouldn't. I would sooner take my own life."

Bilba nodded vigorously and mumbled something that Dwalin couldn't hear. Watching, he realized that she wanted to be comforted and slowly stood and crossed the room to her. Normally, he would pull her into his lap but seeing as how it was Dwalin who had caused the current crisis he sat near enough to take her hand but no more. She eagerly interlaced her fingers with his and gripped tightly.

"Bilba, I never meant to hurt you when I brought this up. I should have thought it through before I spoke. I'm sorry to have strained your trust in me."

Bilba nodded, her golden curls bobbing lightly with the motion. Dwalin watched her expression soften and after several minutes he squeezed her hand gently.

"Come on now. We need to get dressed and head out for market day," Dwalin recommended.

She nodded silently but made no move to stand.

"What if you got me with child? What then?"

Dwalin's eyes grew large. Apparently his tiny wife was doing more thinking while she was curled up on herself on the floor than she was doing cowering in fear. He drew a deep breath and thought carefully. Before Bilba there had never been need in his life to be diplomatic with his words, that had been Balin's work, but now he found that the gift which he had thought was only the province of his brother was something in which he had hidden talents.

"The same we did when Fundin was born. Love him and raise him together."

"Would you honestly be alright with another child? Don't we burden you enough?"

Dwalin shook his head. "I already told you once today- I stay because I choose to stay, because I have grown to enjoy this life. What could another child bring but more joy?"

"Would you treat that child any differently that you treat Fundin?"

Dwalin scowled and shook his head. "No. Why would I?"

"Because Fundin isn't your son."

If anyone else had attempted to make that point Dwalin might have broken an arm or leg to prove that the child was indeed his. Instead, he took several deep breaths and tried valiantly to pretend that her assertion didn't sting in the slightest.

"Fundin is my son. I may not be his sire but that matters not at all to me. I have cared for the boy as my own since I first held him in my arms. No other child will change how I feel for our son."

"You're good to us, Dwalin. More than either of us could have ever asked."

"It is no more than you deserve I assure you."

The conversation finally came to a close, though it was far from over, and they pulled themselves together enough to head to market. They didn't speak much, though that was far from abnormal, and were making their way home when Bilba again surprised Dwalin.

"How do we go about this?"

"Carefully and slowly."

Bilba nodded. That seemed sensible enough. "Where do we start?"

It was an excellent question. Dwalin knew where he had started with his previous lovers- ale, kissing, groping, a bit of fingering before the main event. None of those ideas would work here. It would need to be more subtle, more gentle, slower. Tentatively, he slipped his hand into hers.

"I think this will be a good start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's chapter is the last! Thanks for sticking with me!!
> 
> Also, WTF is with the notes from chapter 1 showing up on EVERY bloody chapter? Bleh...


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings, no tags, no terribleness! I fluffed... again... just a little... okay entirely... but we all deserve it after everything else. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I’ll die before I surrender to the likes of you!” Dwalin shouted as he ran across the field brandishing his axe.

He had been running for time and eventually his pace had slowed. His pursuers were gaining on him quickly and it was only a few moments later that he was tackled to the ground with an audible thud. The first two attackers wrested the axe away and tried to pin his arms while waiting on their slower counterparts. Between the four of them Dwalin wriggled uselessly and was pinned.

“Yield!” the brunette shouted.

“Never!”

After another second Dwalin trapped the two later arrivals between his legs and as he mercilessly tickled the two larger boys.

“Adad! Stop! I yield! I yield!” Fundin shrieked.

The other lad made an admirable effort not to give in to the relentless tickles but eventually was overcome.

“Let go Uncle Dwalin! I surrender! No more!” Frodo wheezed.

Dwalin could hear Bilba snickering from where she leaned on the tree across the field.

“And what about you lads?” Dwalin grunted, turning his attention to the smaller boys that were furiously struggling to free themselves.

They said nothing, squealing in delight as Dwalin hoisted them over his shoulders and made for the pond. “If you boys don’t yield, you’ll be going for a swim,” he warned menacingly.

Peals of “Yield! Yield!” chorused together and Dwalin deposited them on the ground with feigned disappointment at not getting to dump them in the pond.

As soon as the boys were regrouped they rounded on Dwalin for another assault and the game continued and then ended much the same way for another two or three rounds.

“Uncle Dwalin, it’s Gandalf!” Frodo called, halting his pursuit.

“And another dwarf!” Fundin observed with excitement.

Dwalin paused in the knee high grass and looked towards the road where the boys were staring. The smaller lads crashed into his legs while Dwalin gaped, nearly knocking him over.

His voice came out quiet but breathy. “Balin.”

“Your brother?” Fundin asked hopefully.

“Aye, come on lads let’s go see them.” Dwalin stood and lifted the twins to his shoulders and Frodo and Fundin raced along behind him to keep up. Bilba had noticed the visitors as well and was already well across the field with her little companion.

“Bilba,” Balin greeted as she walked up, arriving before Dwalin and the gaggle of faunts. “You look… good. I am relieved to see you thusly.”

She smiled and nodded. “We are well, thank you. How have you been old friend?”

“Busy as always, but of course I had to find come to come west and visit you both, or all should I say,” Balin noted as the children pooled around them.

“Brother,” Dwalin muttered as he embraced Balin.

“Started yourself a childcare service then?” Balin mused as the children tussled about, pulling on Gandalf's robes.

“Ours,” Bilba answered with a fond smile.

Balin quite nearly choked on his own tongue so Dwalin took the chance to introduce everyone properly.

“This is Fundin, our oldest, he’s eight.” 

Balin’s face darkened and immediately understood the implication. “Mahal, I had no idea.”

Bilba smiled ruefully and pointed to Frodo, rather than letting the moment drag on. “This is our nephew Frodo. My cousins were lost in an accident sometime ago and we’ve adopted him. He’s a year older than Fundin.”

“And these two young fools are Fili and Kili, our twins,” Dwalin said ruffling their hair. “They’re three.” Balin’s voice caught in his throat at their names. Nothing would have been appropriate than if Fili and Kili had been twins and the reminder of their loss stung swift and strong.

Bilba turned to give Balin and Gandalf a better line of sight at the small bundle in her arms. “This is our newest addition. Little Belladonna. She came just last month.”

“My, my, quite the little family you’re grown. I am pleased to see that you’ve both found your happiness,” Gandalf said with a merry smile.

Balin nodded. “There is much you have not told me of in your letters brother.”

“Aye, very much,” Dwalin agreed.

Bilba cut in, “Afternoon tea is due, why don’t we head home and we can tell you all about the last nine years since we left the mountain and you can tell us about the company and how everyone is fairing.”

“Gladly,” Balin answered with a nod. 

He cast a rueful glance at Fundin as the boys ambled down the road ahead of their parents. He favored Thorin in many ways. His heart ached for Bilba and the pain that it must have caused when she learned of her situation. So much had been missed. His brother was married, and not for the sake of duty after all it seemed, and had children no less. The visit so far had lasted ten minutes and Balin was already in shock, though most of it was good. He hoped that his old heart could handle whatever else those two had in store for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Hooray!
> 
> And thank you to LadyAnatar for fixing my stupids with a step-by-step guide (one that I'll most likely be referring to at a later date).


End file.
